


Stuck On The Puzzle

by venomly



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2020-08-20 06:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 46,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomly/pseuds/venomly
Summary: All Crowley wanted was a hot date. He's not too sure how it turned into a rescue mission.





	1. Chapter 1

Crowley was not a bad person. He just didn’t think of himself to be a very nice one. He wasn’t a do-gooder and you would never catch him helping little old ladies across the street or whatever do-gooders do. People like that irritated him. He did have his exceptions though.

Crowley watched with sudden interest as a man slowly walked across the street holding a pile of books stacked impossibly high. At first glance, the man wasn’t really his type, but since he had time to really look him over, he had to admit he was pretty alright. Not much for fashion, but it worked for him. All in all, though, it was the potential for mishap that had initially caught Crowley’s attention. For a moment he thought Book Guy was going to be successful in his endeavors, and he really almost was, but it was a misstep on the curb that had a few of the top books tumbling down onto the sidewalk. Book Guy wavered, seemingly trying to figure out where to go from there, arms still full with the other books. Crowley saw his opportunity. 

“You look like you need some help,” he said, walking over at a cool place. He shot Book Guy the most honest smile he could conjure.

Book Guy’s face lit up, his returning smile so bright that Crowley felt grateful that he had remembered his sunglasses this morning. The guy was definitely cuter than he had taken him for, sunlight shining through his blonde hair, making him look almost ethereal. “Oh! If you wouldn’t mind. I was so worried I’d have to leave them out here, thank you.”

“’S no problem for me.” Crowley picked up the fallen books and took a few more out of Book Guy’s arms for good measure. “Wouldn’t want them getting stepped on, streets like these. Always busy. Nobody ever watches where they’re going.”

“I really do appreciate it.” Book Guy started toward the shop in front of them. “I can show you where to set those down, I’m just right in here.”

The bell rung above their heads as they entered. Crowley glanced around the unfamiliar storefront before bringing his attention back to the man who was trying to set the books down in a somewhat stable pile behind the counter. 

“You can put those down… um… Somewhere. Anywhere.” Book Guy gestured vaguely to a couple unoccupied spots next to him. “Fortunately, those are books I intend to sell. I would’ve hated having to see a first edition get dirtied up like that. Of course, I would’ve been more careful in the first place.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like a very good business practice.”

Book Guy laughed. “It’s hardly a business if I can help it.”

“So ‘A.Z. Fell.’ Is that you?” Crowley nodded to the business cards on the counter before stooping to set the books down.

“Yes. Actually, it’s Aziraphale.”

“Your name is Aziraphale… Fell?” 

“Not exactly my fault, is it?” Aziraphale looked at him sharply, like he was expecting teasing.

“I like it. Very alliterative.” 

“And your name is?”

Crowley straightened up, taking off his sunglasses and holding out his hand. “Crowley. Anthony Crowley.” Aziraphale paused, taking in Crowley’s face without the glasses. A blush rose to his cheeks when Crowley quirked an eyebrow and he quickly looked away, taking Crowley’s hand and shaking it softly. Crowley decided that that reaction was definitely a favorable one, and a greenlight to add a bit of dramatics. He leaned down slightly, bringing Aziraphale’s hand up and kissing the top of it lightly, looking up at him as he did. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Aziraphale.” He couldn’t help but feel a bit proud as the other man’s face turned bright red.

“Well,” Aziraphale breathed out, visibly flustered. “That was quite a Bond moment.” 

Crowley smiled. “Too much?”

“No! No, not at all. It was very nice, Anthony.”

“Just Crowley is fine. I prefer it that way.”

“Right,” Aziraphale smiled to himself. “Crowley.”

The bell above the door rung. They both looked over to see an older man browsing one of the shelves, unaware of the moment he just broke.

Aziraphale cleared his throat, his previously dazed expression being replaced by something Crowley couldn’t quite pin down. “Best be getting back to work. Customers to chase away and all.”

“Of course.” Crowley picked up his sunglasses, fidgeting with them. “Any, uh, any chance I might see you around? I’d love to take you out sometime,” he asked, trying to stay on the quieter side, aware of the customer now picking through the shelves on the other side of the room. There was no way he was going to leave without shooting his shot. “We could get dinner tomorrow night, if you’re free.”

Aziraphale looked torn. He looked down at his hands, touching the spot Crowley had kissed. “I really can’t. I… I have a boyfriend.”

Of course the only guy Crowley had gone out of the way to hit on in who knows how long was taken. He nodded, putting his sunglasses on. “That’s alright. Was nice meeting you regardless.” He turned to leave. Before he could make it to the door, a hand was grabbing at his jacket. 

“What about lunch?” Aziraphale was looking at him, pleadingly.

“What?”

“Lunch,” Azirphale repeated. “We could still go out as friends. For some lunch. Not today, of course, bit late for that, but there are a lot of lovely places around here.”

“Friends. Right, uh.” Crowley really didn’t need anymore friends. He had lots of friends. If it had been anybody else Crowley would’ve rejected them without hesitation but Aziraphale was looking at him with a sort of desperation and saying no would’ve been like kicking a puppy. He hesitated. “Yeah. I could do lunch.”

Aziraphale smiled, relieved. Definitely looking happier than one should at making lunch plans. “Oh, that’s wonderful. I can, um,” he patted his pockets before grabbing a business card off the counter. “Here. I don’t carry my phone around much, not too sure where I put it.”

Crowley took it. “Well, I guess I’ll be calling you then.”

“Thank you again for your help today, Crowley.”

“Any time, angel.” He left with a wink, leaving the bookshop owner blushing. Friends. He could do friends. He was going to have fun with it but he could do it.


	2. Chapter 2

The phone number sat in his pocket for days. It wasn’t like Crowley hadn’t thought about it since, he just didn’t know where to start. He was used to picking people up at clubs or, in special cases, wining and dining before getting down to business and calling it a day. Lunch was different. Lunch with Aziraphale was different. First of all, he wasn’t getting any. Second, he never really went out to lunch with the friends he already had and, if for some reason he did, it was typically in a larger group or just something spontaneous. This was going to be a scheduled lunch with a guy he knew nothing about except that he owns a bookshop. Crowley didn’t even like books. Well, most books. He almost made up his mind to not go through with it but every time he felt like tossing the number, he’d think of the way Aziraphale looked at him when he had asked. Aziraphale being cute did help the matter too and really, it couldn’t hurt flirting with a guy who had a boyfriend. If anything, Aziraphale asking for a lunch date could mean that the relationship was on thin ice and it would be easy for Crowley to swoop in. Right?

On the sixth day, he called.

The phone rang a couple times before a voice greeted him on the other end.

“A.Z. Fell Books, is there anything I can help you with today?”

Crowley cleared his throat. “Er- Aziraphale? This is Crowley, we, uh, we met the other day.”

“Just a moment,” came the reply. Crowley could hear muffled conversation on the other end. It took a minute before Aziraphale spoke again. “Sorry about that,” he said, in a less business-like manner. “I didn’t think you were going to call. I’m very glad you did.”

“I got busy.” It wasn’t too much of a lie- work had been busy lately. He ran a hand through his hair. “So, lunch? What’s a good time?”

“Yes, lunch! I typically take mine around noon.”

“What a coincidence, so do I. Can I pick you up tomorrow?”

“I’d love that.” He could practically hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice. “If you don’t have somewhere in mind, I’m quite familiar with all the restaurants near the shop.”

“Your choice then. Wherever you want.”

“I think I know just the place.”

*********************************

Crowley found himself outside the bookshop at five past noon. Looking at the storefront, he found himself thinking that he must’ve passed by the store a hundred times before and never really noted it. It was funny how things worked that way. 

“Crowley! You’re here,” Aziraphale beamed from behind the counter, the second he walked in. He was looking a bit more put together than at their first run in, some effort definitely put into his hair.

“We do have a date,” Crowley said, amused when Aziraphale shot him a look. “Friend date.”

Aziraphale was exuding excitement as he walked past Crowley, turning the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed.’ “There’s a French bistro a short walk from here if you’re interested.”

The bistro was busy and the two got seated outside. It was a nice day out, a bit more on the cool side but still rather sunny. Aziraphale was enjoying a caprese sandwich while Crowley picked at a salad. He was very selective when it came to food and rarely ate much when out. It was a bit fascinating watching Aziraphale eat, though, as he seemed to be enjoying the food enough for the two of them. 

He noticed Crowley watching and set the sandwich down, dabbing at his mouth self-consciously with the napkin. “They really do have the freshest ingredients here. I’ve tried the other bistros in the area and they’re not bad but if you’re getting something that requires nothing cooked it just doesn’t taste the same.” He glanced at Crowley’s meal, looking uncertain. “Of course, we can always go somewhere else to pick up something for you. I should’ve asked if you liked anything on the menu before I ordered.”

“Don’t worry about it, angel, the salad’s great.”

“Right,” Aziraphale said, smiling at the pet name. “So, um, what do you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Crowley leaned back in his chair, putting his sunglasses on the top of his head. “I work at a research center. Astronomy,” he said with a hard ‘s.’ “My team focuses on galaxy formations and the like.”

“That’s quite impressive.”

“It’s mostly a lot of paperwork,” Crowley said, waving a hand. “What got you into the business of books?”

“Well,” Aziraphale started. 

They fell into easy conversation, banter coming naturally to them. Crowley found that he was enjoying it way more than he thought he would. Even talking about books became interesting when Aziraphale was the one talking about it. They took turns sharing stories, the conversation never turning awkward, no uncomfortable silences. Crowley purposefully steered clear of all things relationship. He didn’t really care to know and hearing about it would put him off. As someone who managed to avoid serious relationships for the majority of his life, there was nothing worse than having to hear someone talk about their problems or how wonderful everything was going. 

They had been talking for over an hour, sandwich finished and salad half eaten when a waitress came up to their table, wearing a polite smile. “Would you gentlemen like to look at the dessert menu today? There’s a lunch special for éclairs.”

“Yes, please,” Aziraphale said happily, about to take the menu before looking over at Crowley, smile faltering. “Oh, uh, actually I’m feeling rather full now that I think abou-”

“We’ll take the menu,” Crowley interjected. The waitress handed it over, pen at the ready.

“Really, I’m fine,” Aziraphale said, uncomfortably. 

Crowley looked the options over. “What would you recommend,” he asked looking up at the other man.

“They do have very good éclairs here.” 

Crowley handed the menu back to the girl. “One éclair, thanks.” Aziraphale looked relieved that Crowley wasn’t going to be pushing the matter.

She nodded, writing it down. “We’ll have that right out for you.”

The two didn’t have to wait long before the pastry was brought out and set in front of Crowley.

“Bon appétit,” He said, pushing the plate over to Aziraphale.

“It’s yours,” Aziraphale protested.

“I ordered it for you. Lunch is happily on me and I really didn’t mind.” Crowley gestured at the pastry. “Go on.”

Aziraphale was looking between him and the pastry like it was a trap. He picked it up hesitantly before taking a bite.

“Good?”

Aziraphale gave him a small smile. “Very.”

“Good.” Crowley could feel the awkward tension being lifted from the table. He wasn't going to let the outing end on a sour note over a dessert and he definitely didn't want Aziraphale to think Crowley would get upset over paying for said dessert. Hell, after the show put on today, Crowley would gladly pay just to watch Aziraphale eat. He tried not to think about whether or not that was weird. They resumed their chatter as Aziraphale finished off the dessert, looking very pleased. By the time they were ready to go, they had been dining for almost 2 hours.

“Sorry about that, angel, didn’t mean to keep you away from the shop for that long,” Crowley said, looking at the time on his phone a bit surprised. It didn’t feel like it had been that long at all.

“No need to worry about it. Deterring business is never a bad thing.” Aziraphale looked like he had something else to say. Crowley waited. A moment passed. “I had a very nice time, Crowley. Thank you,” he said, genuine appreciation coating the words.

Crowley shrugged. “I had a nice time too. We’ll do it again some time, yeah?”

“You want to?” Aziraphale was looking at him like he hadn’t even considered it as a possibility. 

“'Course,” Crowley said. He put his sunglasses back on with a smirk. “Maybe next time you’ll let me take you out for a very platonic dinner. We’ll have lots of wine.”

“That does sound rather tempting.”

“Damn right it does." He got out of his chair. "Come on, I'll walk you back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea what scheduling is gonna look like or how long chapters are gonna be. Hope you guys like the new addition!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley grimaced. “That doesn’t mean I’m seeing anyone. I don’t ‘see’ people. Not my thing.”
> 
> Anathema crossed her arms. After a couple minutes of her not getting off his desk and not saying anything, he looked up, meeting her stare. 
> 
> “I’m not sssseeing anyone,” he said sharply. She raised her eyebrows. He knew there was no way she was leaving his office without physically being carried out at this point. He caved. “He’s just a friend.”

Dinner with Aziraphale remained elusive, but lunch would always get an enthusiastic ‘yes.’ Crowley’s work schedule was getting a bit heavier but once a week he’d end up calling and asking if the bookshop owner was free. And he always was. Crowley found himself looking forward to getting greeted by that bright smile like Aziraphale was being surprised by the visit. He would never admit it but it really felt like they clicked. It was easy to talk to him, in a way that felt like they’d been doing it for ages. They found out pretty quickly that, besides a fondness for classical music, they had very little interests in common- Crowley had tried not to be too offended when, after trying to explain who The Velvet Underground was, Aziraphale nodded sagely and described it as “bebop”- but Crowley found it refreshing. With Aziraphale, it never felt monotonous. He was always learning something new and even when he was doing the sharing, it was to a blank slate. A very eager blank state who asked questions and looked at Crowley like he was the most interesting person he had met. More meals also meant more of watching Aziraphale enthusiastically eat everything Crowley put in front of him even though he still gave Crowley a look every once in a while like he was about to take his plate away.

“So. Who is it?”

Crowley snapped out of his thoughts and looked up from the paper he had been staring at for the past five minutes, glaring as threateningly as he possibly could at Anathema, who was perched on his desk. The research center had been collaborating with a nearby university which meant the place was unfortunately crawling with grad students. Which was why Crowley had deliberately stayed in his office. Where said grad students should not be. Crowley worked to instill fear in the interns but Anathema remained imperturbable which, not that he’d ever tell her, was why she was the only one he respected.

“Who’s who,” he asked, looking back down at the paper for no other reason than make a show of having no interest in the conversation.

“Who are you seeing?“ She adjusted her glasses. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“I’m not seeing anyone,” he deadpanned. The words on the page really did look like nonsense today.

“Derek walked into the last presentation 20 minutes late and hungover and you barely yelled at him. You didn’t even point out his shoes.”

“What was wrong with his shoes?”

“One was a green Croc.”

Crowley grimaced. “That doesn’t mean I’m seeing anyone. I don’t ‘see’ people. Not my thing.”

Anathema crossed her arms. After a couple minutes of her not getting off his desk and not saying anything, he looked up, meeting her stare. 

“I’m not sssseeing anyone,” he said sharply. She raised her eyebrows. He knew there was no way she was leaving his office without physically being carried out at this point. He caved. “He’s just a friend.”

“Oh. Just a friend,” she said, unconvinced.

“Well, right now, yes. It’s more of an ego trip, really,” Crowley said, leaning back in what he hoped looked like a cool way, stretching his arms. “He’s got a boyfriend.”

She looked unimpressed.

“I get him to go out for a spot to eat with me every week and he sits pretty and drinks up every word I say. You really should see his face when he sees me. He gets, like,” he gestured toward his face vaguely, struggling with words, “it’s- I mean, you’d have to see it. Lights right up.”

“So,” Anathema said slowly, “You want him to break up with his boyfriend. So you can date him. Because you like him.”

Crowley looked at her liked she had sprouted another head. “No, no, I did not say that. It’s a purely physical thing. I’m playing the long game. I mean, you should see the way he eats an oyster.”

She scrunched her nose. “I… don’t know what that means but I don’t like the way you said it.”

“Wha- I- actual oysters, Anathema! I don’t even- don’t you have work to do?”

“Don’t try to change the subject!” She huffed. “Has he brought up his boyfriend at all?”

Crowley thought about it. “Well, yeah, time to time.” He frowned. “Dunno much about him. Name’s Gabriel. Has some hotshot job. American. Apparently he’s pretty fantastic,” he said, mockingly. “Seems like a real know it all if you ask me.”

“And this guy you like…” she trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

“Aziraphale,” he supplied.

“So, Aziraphale. He likes his boyfriend, though?”

Crowley thought about it. “Ehh, I mean, supposedly he’s pretty into him but… I don’t know. Vibe’s off, if you know what I mean. I feel like I’ve got a pretty good chance at slithering in.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Anathema visibly restrained herself from rolling her eyes. “Mhm. You’re pretty invested for someone just looking to fuck.”

“Hey, now, let’s not get crude about it.”

“How often do you guys talk? It’s kinda nice to imagine you writing heartfelt texts late into the night, Aziraphale sneaking around to see you,” she trailed off. 

“We talk ‘bout once a week.” He frowned, thinking. “You know, now that I think about it, we’ve never texted. It’s always me calling him.” After a pause, he pointed a finger at her, warningly. “And I do not write heartfelt texts. Should be having you do the rest of my paperwork for that one.”

She didn’t even pretend to look threatened.

“Actually, shoo,” Crowley started waving her off his desk. “Go do… Something. Whatever the hell you do when you’re not bugging me. We’re not talking about this anymore.”

Anathema got up obligingly. “Tell your boyfriend I said hi.”

“Out. Now. I swear, no manners with your lot.”

She smiled, waving from the door as she left.

“Just because you’re young doesn’t mean I can’t personally number your days,” he yelled after her.

He sunk down in his chair. He was _not_ invested. He was just enjoying company. Company that he intended to get into the pants of. It was definitely a game, if anything, to answer the question of how long would it take to get Aziraphale to stray. He did think it was odd about the texting, though, now that he thought about it. It hadn’t occurred to him before that they could be communicating far more frequently without the excuse of meal. He eyed his phone, debating a couple seconds before picking it up. Texting someone didn’t mean anything. It was just convenient.

Opening his contact list, Aziraphale’s name sat comfortably among the top, only surpassed by four others. Crowley clicked on it, choosing the message option. He typed a short “hey, are we still on for lunch tomorrow?” and waited a few moments before locking his phone. It could be a while before Aziraphale saw it. He did say he didn’t have his phone on him much, it was anyone’s guess when he bothered to check it when it wasn’t a call that he was receiving. He set the phone aside, forgetting about it as he resumed his work. When he finally went home, 4 hours later, the text remained unanswered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise next chapter will move things along a lot. Also, thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback! I thought it'd be harder to break back into writing but it's really making me excited to update.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever just happened wasn’t a fight or really anything close to it but something about it felt a bit too heavy for Crowley’s liking. He sauntered over to the door, noting the disappointment that briefly flashed across Aziraphale’s face and flipped the sign from open to close. “Come on, angel, I think you need some cheering up,” he said gently.

Crowley looked up at the sign above the bookshop, closing the Bentley’s door. He knew there was a very good reason Aziraphale hadn’t texted him back and it had nothing to do with not wanting to see him. He had nothing to worry about. Hesitating for a second, he turned and fixed his hair in the reflection of his car’s window, carefully smoothing a flyaway back into place. Feeling presentable, he finally crossed the street. He really didn’t feel even slightly disappointed about the text, it was a stupid thing to get bothered about and he just wasn’t that kind of person. 

The now familiar bell above him rang softly.

“If you have any inquiries, they will have to wait until tomorrow. It’s a very long process to move these books around and I don’t have time today to-“ Aziraphale’s head came poking out from the back room, with a stern expression. It softened when he saw who it was.

“Oh, Crowley, I’m so glad it’s you. I don’t think I can put up with anyone else.” He dusted himself off and took off the rubber gloves he had been wearing.

“Sounds like somebody could use a break,” Crowley said, preening a bit under the compliment. “Wasn’t sure if you still wanted to go out, you didn’t message back.” He tried to sound casual, leaning against one of the bookshelves with his hands in his pockets. 

“Ah. Well, you know me and technology. I would prefer if you only called from here on, I’m no good with texting. If it were up to me, the only phone I’d have was my landline. It’d make things far less complicated,” he tried to say jokingly. It fell a bit flat. He nervously pulled at one of his sleeves. “Please don’t be upset with me,” he said with a smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Of course not,” Crowley frowned and took off his sunglasses. Some of the tension subtly released from Aziraphale’s stance but Crowley was more focused on the dark circles around his eyes, eye bags prominent. He almost looked like a different person without the pep in his step and the unabashedly enthusiastic smile, always aiming at Crowley when he knew they were about to have a nice meal. He looked dead on his feet. “Aziraphale… are you feeling alright? You look a bit tired.”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night. Or any sleep for that matter,” he admitted. “I had lots of cleaning to do, I was very behind. I’m a pretty awful homemaker,” he said with a strained laugh. “It’s very unfair for Gabriel to have to live in that mess.”

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up. “You live with him?”

“Yes, I thought you already knew.”

“You haven’t mentioned it before.” Crowley was trying to process the new information. It was a bit more serious than he had thought. He didn’t know why but he didn’t like thinking about that at all. “So… if you live with him,” he paused, “Why didn’t he lend a hand last night? If it was in such a dire need of cleaning.” 

Aziraphale looked at him like he had said something absurd. “He had work in the morning.”

“So did you.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over them as Aziraphale looked like he was searching for words. Crowley felt like he had overstepped a bit. It really wasn’t his position to start going around critiquing their relationship, even if it did seem a bit weird. What was it to him, anyways? It was just a bit of a mood dampener seeing Aziraphale all exhausted.

“Being a CEO is hardly the same thing than- than sitting in here all day, twiddling my thumbs.” There was an edge of anger that Crowley had never heard before cutting into the words. Crowley bit his tongue from trying not to point out how hard he’d seen Aziraphale work in the short time they’d known each other. Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Crowley, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I really am very tired.” He glanced around at the books, refusing to meet Crowley’s eyes. “Maybe… maybe it’s best you go on without me today and we’ll dine together next week instead. I’m afraid I’m not very good company right now.”

Crowley considered it. Anyone else and he’d probably be leaving without a second thought but Aziraphale really did look like he was having a shit day. Crowley was all too familiar with shit days. He didn’t really like the idea of leaving Aziraphale alone while he was in this mood. He also didn’t really like the thought of them parting on a somewhat sour note. Whatever just happened wasn’t a fight or really anything close to it but something about it felt a bit too heavy for Crowley’s liking. He sauntered over to the door, noting the disappointment that briefly flashed across Aziraphale’s face and flipped the sign from open to close. “Come on, angel, I think you need some cheering up,” he said gently.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows furrowed, giving Crowley a look that could only be described as pure confusion. Crowley opened the door and raised his eyebrows expectantly, gesturing for him to lead the way. The first real smile of the day graced Aziraphale’s face, small but genuine, and Crowley tried to feel not too proud of himself for being the one to put it there.

“What are you in the mood for today? Crepes, Thai, seafood, Italian?”

They walked out, the sun greeting them too much for Crowley’s liking. He put his sunglasses back on and looked over at his lunch companion, deep in thought. 

“How about sushi?”

Crowley was not a fan of sushi. He gave Aziraphale a lopsided smile. “It’s like you read my mind.”

Aziraphale’s tired eyes lit up and he started talking a mile a minute about how he met the owner and how the restaurant’s history was really very interesting if you understand the context of the time it opened. Crowley nodded along, trying his best to follow. His mind was wandering a bit to the fact that Aziraphale was living with Gabriel. He was feeling a bit annoyed at himself for not asking more about their relationship. How long had they been going out? How long had they been in that living situation? They had to be sharing a room. A bed. He scrunched his nose, stopping that train of thought. Or at least tried to. He looked at Aziraphale rambling, beautiful even when the sleepless night was obvious, and felt a twinge of jealousy. Gabriel already knew how Aziraphale liked to be kissed, his sensitive spots, the sounds he made. Did they do it often? Recently? Had it been a while? Not that those were questions Crowley ever intended to ask. Those were things he didn’t really need to know. It didn’t seem fair at all. Someone who let Aziraphale stay up all night to clean of all things shouldn’t get to touch him. Aziraphale feeling the need to do that at all sat wrong with him.

Aziraphale shot him an amused look, one eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“You were somewhere else for a moment.”

“Is it a crime to pay attention?”

“Hm. And what was I talking about?”

Crowley could feel his face heat up a bit. He sputtered a bit. “Er- you know, um, somethin’ about… fish,” he finished lamely. He knew Aziraphale was already in a much better mood, back to his normal self, just by how much he was enjoying watching Crowley flounder. “Should’ve left you in the bookshop.”

“Much too late for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of me wants to write longer chapters but I love being able to get them out quickly too much? A never ending struggle. Hope you guys like the new addition!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think something’s wrong.”
> 
> She groaned. “I spent an hour triple checking it. Was it on the second page? I knew I shouldn’t have added that extra equation.”
> 
> “What? No. Forget the papers.” Crowley set them down. “I’m talking about Aziraphale.”

The clock on his wall said it was a quarter ‘til noon. Crowley had his feet propped up on his desk, tapping his pen on his chin. By the time Crowley had left Aziraphale the day before, everything had been the same as usual. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to stop by again today, just see how he was doing. He really could use a break, too, having been working hard nonstop since he came in 4 hours ago. 

It was settled- a quick break never hurt anyone.

He grabbed his car keys, launching himself out of his chair.

*******

“Aziraphale, you busy?” He leaned in the door frame.

Aziraphale looked over from where he was talking to an older woman, giving Crowley a relieved look. “Crowley! Oh, dear, I had completely forgotten about our meeting.” He turned to the woman. “I’m dreadfully sorry, you’ll have to come back another time, I have important business to attend to. Perhaps, you could come in later and if the book is still here we can discuss pricing.” He shooed her out the door, Crowley getting out of the way as the lady gave him a curt nod as she left.

“Meeting?” Crowley teased, resuming his previous stance.

“I could not have her hands on my precious book any longer,” Aziraphale huffed, putting the book back where it belonged. He adjusted the books around it as well, so they lined up neatly on the shelf.

“Really, angel, how do you keep the doors open in this place?” 

“I do sell _some_. My family has owned the place long enough I don’t really have many bills to worry about. So what do I owe the pleasure of these consecutive visits?” 

Crowley shrugged. “Was in the area,” he sniffed. “You interested in a bite to eat?” 

“Always.” 

Aziraphale passed by Crowley a bit too close while walking out the door, giving him a pleased smile as he did. Crowley followed him with his eyes, giving him a look over. He tried not to look like he had been caught when Aziraphale turned around to toss him the keys to the shop.

*****

They decided on croissants. Crowley had chosen a plain one and Aziraphale had debated getting one with chocolate filling before settling on getting a plain croissant as well. He was happily smothering it in cherry jam and sighing, contentedly with each bite.

“You’re in a good mood,” Crowley commented. “Feeling better?”

Aziraphale dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Mm. Very. Gabriel felt horrible about the other night and took me out for a very nice dinner,” he said, gloating a bit. “He apologized profusely, even though, really, he had no reason to. It was all my fault in the first place.”

Crowley squinted. “What was your fault?” The way he talked about it made it sound more like the other night had been a punishment of sorts.

Aziraphale looked at him like hadn’t realized what he had said. “Oh. It was just something silly. Slight mistake on my behalf.” He sipped at his tea. “We really had a lovely time, though. He was treating me so nice.”

Crowley nodded, fiddling with his unused fork. “Is he usually not nice?” He said it half as a joke. 

“It’s- no. I mean, not no to him being nice, he’s…” The chair creaked as Aziraphale adjusted the way he was sitting. He glanced at Crowley before looking back down at his croissant, busying himself by smearing more jam on it. “It’s not that he’s not nice, it’s that I’m… not good sometimes,” he said like he was making a confession.

Crowley laughed in disbelief. “Not good? You?” He was hoping that Aziraphale hadn’t been serious but his companion’s face did not look at all happy. “How in the bloody hell are you not good?”

“I really try to be,” he said, still not meeting Crowley’s eyes. “I’m just… not a very good boyfriend at all. I’m constantly messing up, I honestly don’t know how Gabriel has put up with me for so long. He really loves me so much and I’m always letting him down.” He set the mostly eaten croissant on the plate, looking down at it like it had offended him. 

Nothing that had just came out of Aziraphale’s mouth had made any sense. It felt horrible to think Aziraphale actually thought that. Unless he was going around murdering people, Crowley couldn’t figure out how ‘Aziraphale’ and ‘bad’ could possibly be matched up. Aziraphale was finally looking up at Crowley, an expression that made it feel like Crowley was approaching something sensitive.

“I don’t know how you can let anyone down, angel.” Aziraphale looked pained, about to protest. Crowley went a different route. “How long have you two been a thing?”

The subject change was successful, replacing the bad expression with something not exactly happy, but better.

“5 years,” Aziraphale said, slightly proud. “We met by chance. I was in a… well, not a book club exactly but more of a network of other independent bookshop owners and we’d meet every other week. Many friendly faces there. One day a few of us were out and about and one of them mentions that a handsome American fellow was looking for a Jane Austen first edition- I forget which title- and she was completely out of luck. Fortunately, I had one available so she sent him my way. I think it was a present for his mother. Well, Gabriel and I had a very nice chat, even though he wasn’t much interested in books himself, and he invited me out to the theatre that night. He was so charming. Made me feel rather lucky. It was a year, I believe, before I moved in with him. There’s a flat above the bookshop that I used to live in but now it’s mostly occupied with whatever I don’t keep in the shop.” 

Beeping came from his pocket and Crowley checked his phone. A text from Anathema was on the screen, annoyed that he was late to their weekly check-in. He felt a bit saved by the bell. Just hearing that much about Gabriel was making him antsy.

“Who was that?” 

“Intern. Anathema. I think I told you about her before, right?” 

“Yes, I believe so. Sounded like a wonderfully bright young girl.”

“Eh, I mean, she’s alright.” Crowley put the phone back in his pocket. “Looks like we’re gonna have to cut this a bit short. But just a bit. Definitely finish up,” he nodded at the half eaten croissant. 

“I’m done,” Aziraphale said, pushing it away from himself.

“Really, I live to annoy her, take your time. I can’t send you back hungry, that defeats the purpose.”

“I’m full,” he insisted.

“Right.” Crowley stood. “Come on, then. My car’s by your place.”

**********

Crowley sighed, looking over the paperwork. Anathema was hovering annoyingly, trying to look over the paper to gauge his facial expressions. He kept thinking about what Aziraphale said about himself. Not a very good boyfriend? And what did he mean by ‘his fault’? Gabriel had always sounded like a bit of a prick but he couldn’t actually be doing anything that had been agitated by Aziraphale. He couldn’t imagine Aziraphale doing anything that could cause that. He sighed again and Anathema gave him a worried look, glancing between him an her papers.

“Anathema?”

“Yes?”

“I think something’s wrong.”

She groaned. “I spent an hour triple checking it. Was it on the second page? I knew I shouldn’t have added that extra equation.”

“What? No. Forget the papers.” Crowley set them down. “I’m talking about Aziraphale.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said, offended. “We talked about Gabriel today.”

Anathema leaned forward, elbows on the desk, eyes full of interest. “Trouble in paradise?”

“That’s just it. It doesn’t really sound like paradise.” 

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, he just- he said some things that… well, they didn’t sound very right. Even yesterday!”

She raised her eyebrows. “Two dates in a row?”

“That’s beside the point,” Crowley said, glaring. “Yesterday, he looked like he was about to drop he was so exhausted and I asked him, you know, if he was alright and he said he hadn’t gotten any sleep because he had been cleaning. Does that make any sense?”

“I’m not following.”

“He said somethin’ like ‘he was behind and Gabriel shouldn’t have to deal with the mess so he didn’t get any sleep because he had to clean.’ And today! Today he said last night Gabriel took him out as an apology for the other night. And he said that he didn’t deserve it because something was his fault.” 

“I didn’t know they were living together.”

“New news to me too,” he said bitterly.

“So,” Anathema said, thinking it over, “Aziraphale stays up all night, he says he did something that was his fault, and then Gabriel apologizes for something. You think Gabriel forced him to stay up?”

“I don’t know about that exactly but he was also prattling on about being a bad boyfriend to Gabriel and letting him down. The way he was talking about it,” Crowley shook his head, “I didn’t like it. The tone was off.” He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the arm of his chair. “What do you think? And don’t say I’m just being jealous ‘cause I’m not.”

“Hm.” She leaned back. “It’s… not exactly the biggest red flag. You could be misinterpreting.”

Crowley tried not to pout. It wasn’t that he wanted Aziraphale to be going through anything, he just wanted to be sure nothing was wrong.

"Not invested, huh?"

"Shut up." He spun his chair around to face away from her.

“Ask him more about it if you’re worried,” Anathema said encouragingly. She cleared her throat, looking back down at the papers on the desk. “So, just to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with my work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't really notice how many times you write out Aziraphale's name until each instance is highlighted by the squiggly red line underneath in the drafts. Thank you as always for the positive feedback! I didn't expect this much, I really appreciate it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s on your mind, angel?” Crowley leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand.
> 
> Aziraphale toyed with a napkin. “Gabriel’s going to be out of town for the weekend,” he said, trying to act casual.

Crowley spent days trying to figure out how to word things. He was starting to doubt himself a bit. After a week, Aziraphale had gotten his appetite back and every time Crowley felt like it might be a good time to start asking more about Gabriel, Aziraphale would start chattering happily about this or that and he would get distracted. When Crowley was talking, he’d be too focused on how enraptured Aziraphale was that he’d still forget to ask. Workplace drama at the research center was one of Aziraphale’s favorite topics, which Crowley could understand considering Aziraphale worked alone. It was second only to Crowley’s plants, which hadn’t been something Crowley intended on telling him at all. He was finishing up a story about an intern almost getting fired for trying to tell one of the senior researchers a joke when he noticed that Aziraphale was starting to get a bit antsy. 

“What’s on your mind, angel?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand.

Aziraphale toyed with a napkin. “Gabriel’s going to be out of town for the weekend,” he said, trying to act casual. 

Crowley tried to school his own expression, not quite sure what to make of that sentence. His mind was already flooding him with images that were not the kind he’d like to be thinking about in public. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for Aziraphale to continue.

“I’m not- um, well, Gabriel doesn’t like when I drink,” Aziraphale said, still focusing on the napkin. “But, I have a lot of very good wine I keep in the back of the bookshop that would be a shame to waste so when he has his weekend trips, I, um,” he looked up at Crowley, conspiratorially, “indulge.”

That’s not quite where he thought things were going but a smile spread on Crowley’s face, nonetheless. “Aziraphale, are you inviting me for a little indulgence?”

“I know there must be a million other things you could be doing on a Saturday night but if you would like to join me,” Aziraphale trailed off, looking a little uncertain.

Crowley leaned back. “I’ve got nothing planned. Who can say no to alcohol?”

Aziraphale smiled at him pleased. Now that Crowley thought about it, it had been a while since he had anything planned. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gone out, even longer since he had picked someone up. He hadn’t had the urge.

*************

Crowley wasn’t really sure what to expect. He had never actually been into the backroom of the bookshop and Aziraphale had mentioned Gabriel usually goes on these trips about twice a month but didn’t say if he ever invited anyone else. He got to the bookshop at 9 and knocked on the door. It opened almost immediately. 

“Crowley, you’re here,” Aziraphale said, brightly, ushering him into the back. The room was warmly lit and a bit messy, creating a nice, lived-in feeling. Aziraphale motioned for Crowley to sit on the couch. “Make yourself comfortable, dear, let me grab the glasses.”

“Is it just gonna be the two of us then?” Crowley sat down and leaned over to grab the bottle on the desk, inspecting the label. He felt a little guilty not having brought anything with him when he saw the date on it.

“Of course," Aziraphale said, handing him a glass, their fingers brushing against each other at the exchange. “Would you like to pour?”

“Er, yeah.” Crowley quickly busied himself on uncorking the bottle. “Where’d you get this stuff, anyway?”

“Wine collection came with bookshop. I know a lot of these must be rather expensive but when you collect books, you’re still able- oh, thank you- uh, still able to read them. I don’t see the point of keeping things around purely for posterity’s sake and bragging rights when they’re so wonderful to partake in. Can’t quite keep your wine and drink it too.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” Crowley said, clinking their glasses together and took a sip. He had to admit, it was really good wine. Aziraphale did the same, humming contently. 

“Any updates on your latest project?” Azirpahale prompted.

Crowley groaned. “You’re not gonna believe what those idiots did.”

As they night went on, they talked their usual subjects. Crowley slowly got more comfortable on the couch, lounging like he had been there many times before. Aziraphale loosened up more than Crowley had ever seen him, and he decided he very much liked tipsy Aziraphale. The tension was gone from his shoulders, his range of facial expressions expanded, he was a bit more bratty with his remarks, in a fun way. After finishing the first bottle, they moved on to the bottles Aziraphale had bought recently. They were nowhere near as good as the first but Crowley was used to drinking way worse. They drank generously and by the time the fourth bottle was almost finished off, both men had lost their jackets and Aziraphale was laying on the couch while Crowley circled around the room passionately faux ranting about something inconsequential, fueled by Aziraphale’s nonstop laughter, which was one of the best sounds he had ever heard. As he passed by the couch again, Aziraphale grabbed onto his shirt.

“Please, Crowley, I can’t breathe,” he laughed, moving up to make room as he pulled Crowley down beside him on the couch. His face was red, bowtie slightly skewed.

Crowley went willingly, smiling fondly at Aziraphale as he watched him try to calm down. He let out a laugh of his own and settled in next to him, suddenly finding himself feeling way more tired than he had been a few minutes ago. He sighed, closing his eyes. “I should probably get home, angel. I’m gonna fall asleep on your couch.”

“You can’t drive home like this,” Aziraphale protested.

“I took a car here.”

“Oh.”

Crowley opened his eyes, peering over at the other man. “No point, us taking two cars. You could... you could crash at my place if you like.” His heart started beating a little faster as he waited for a response.

Aziraphale stayed silent for a moment. “I really can’t,” he sighed.

Crowley tried not to feel too disappointed. “Thas’ alright. We really have to do this again, though. And I’m not just saying that to steal your wine.”

“I know that’s a lie, you fiend,” Aziraphale said, a smile breaking through as he tried to look stern. “Regardless, I’m formally inviting you to every wine night until... ‘til forever.”

“I’m taking you up on that.”

***********

Crowley woke up with a massive hangover. He groaned, burying his face in his pillow, hating himself for not closing the blinds when he got home last night. The memories of last night came back to him and he blamed the swooping feeling he felt on the excessive alcohol. He didn’t think he had ever had that much fun with someone. Not that he never had any fun, but it was different. He didn’t even try to keep up any pretense of acting cool. He hadn’t felt that carefree in a long time. It really was too bad that Aziraphale hadn’t taken him up on his offer, even though he really hadn’t meant in a sexual way when he said it. Couldn’t hold it against him for saying no.

His phone started to ring, and he held the pillow against his ears trying to drown the sound out. One hand blindly searched for it in the blankets. Finally successful, he answered it, thankful when the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” His voice was half muffled by the pillow.

“You said you’d be coming in today,” Anathema’s voice came out through the speaker. He could practically see her annoyed expression.

“Yeah.” He sat up rubbing at his eyes. “I said I’d be coming in at 1.”

“Yeah. It’s a quarter past.”

“Shit, alright. Um, I can be there in 20.” Hanging up, he managed to roll out of bed despite his body protesting. 

He managed to get ready in record time even though that really meant swishing mouthwash while throwing on whatever he could find and running his hands through his hair. He grabbed his sunglasses as he bolted out the door.

Anathema was waiting for him in his office, arms crossed.

“Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t mean to be late. Just slept through my alarm.” Crowley sat down, and rubbed at his temples, keeping his sunglasses firmly in place. “I was out way longer than expected last night, didn’t get home until... I dunno. 3? 3:30?”

“I really doubt the other interns have to deal with the people they’re assigned to’s clubbing habits.”

Crowley turned his attention to his neck, rolling it slightly. The position he had fallen asleep in had obviously been a mistake. “I was not clubbing for your information. I was with Aziraphale.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Don’t get any ideas, we just had a few drinks.”

“Looks like more than a few.” Anathema crossed her legs. “How did it... go? What happened? I’m living vicariously through you at this point.”

Crowley couldn’t help the small smile that flitted across his face. “We just talked. And drank. Lots of drinking.”

“That’s all you’ve got? I don’t get any fleeting moments? No little touches? If I have to listen to you pine over him every other day I feel like I should at least be compensated.”

“I do not pine,” he said, pointing a finger at her sternly. “And there are no fleeting moments, I don’t even know what that means.”

“When do you see him again?”

“I guess the usual days. It’s really not a big deal, Anathema.”

“It’s really not a big deal, Anathema,” she mimicked.

Crowley glowered. He really did not have the patience for this today. “Never do that again. Your accent is atrocious.”

*******

Picking Aziraphale up for the next lunch date, Crowley could almost feel the anxiety rolling off him. He was a bit worried that he had completely overstepped with his drunk invitation. Of course, he wouldn’t fault himself for trying but he didn’t want it to make things awkward. They continued slightly strained simple talk until they got their food. Crowley decided to bite the bullet.

“We can talk about the other night if you want, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale glanced at him, eyes darting back to his plate as quickly as they had looked away from it. “Are you...” He cleared his throat. “Are you upset with me?”

Crowley frowned. “Not at all, why would I be upset with you?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks tinged pink and he let out a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t acting very proper. I suppose that’s why Gabriel doesn’t like the drinking.”

“You were loads of fun, angel. I had a great time. Did you... Were you uncomfortable?” 

“Oh, heaven’s no! I had a great time, too.” He smiled, the worried expression evaporating.

Crowley leaned across and stole a bite of lasagna off his plate, dodging Aziraphale’s attempt to swat him away. “Good. There’s no way I’m letting you take back what you said about all the wine nights, I intend to show up to everyone of them. Screw what Gabriel thinks.” The last bit slipped out.

Aziraphale frowned at him. “I happen to care very deeply about what Gabriel thinks.”

Crowley raised his hands slightly, conceding. “I’m just saying, he’s really missing out.” 

Pleased with the compliment, Aziraphale cut off another piece of his food and set in on Crowley’s plate. “Why, thank you.” 

“So, tell me, do you invite all the boys back to your place for wine?” He moved his eyebrows up suggestively.

Aziraphale huffed. “Absolutely not. Not that I have many boys to invite in the first place. Or that I’d want any.”

“What about your book club crew?” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“I told you I pay attention. What happened to them?” Crowley ate the piece of lasagna as Aziraphale thought it over. 

“I... I don’t know, actually. I guess, when I got involved with Gabriel, it was just conflicting schedules. He was always so busy and the only time we had for dates were coinciding so eventually I just stopped going.” He poked at his food with his fork. “Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to keep up with any of them.”

Crowley leaned back in his seat. “Who do you keep up with?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t recall hearing you tell me anything about anyone except Gabriel.”

“There were a few friends from my school days I used to stay in touch with but between the shop and Gabriel, they seemed to have disappeared a while back too.” Aziraphale chewed at his lip. “I do get to see some of Gabriel’s colleagues when we go to work functions, occasionally.”

“Do you have anyone, besides me, that you spend time with without Gabriel?” It sounded a bit meaner than intended, but Crowley was starting to get concerned. 

It took too long for Aziraphale to answer. “Newton,” he said, finally.

“Who’s Newton?” 

“He’s the archival specialist. Comes in once a month to help me with some of the older books. He was going to help me with cataloguing but he’s rubbish with computers, the poor dear.”

Crowley wanted to say something about how that didn’t really count but Aziraphale looked too proud about coming up with an answer. He wasn’t sure he’d know what to say, anyways. He put on a smile. “Maybe I can meet Newton sometime.” 

Aziraphale took another bite of his food, oblivious to the change in Crowley’s mood. “You know, I’d really love to meet Anathema. I think her and Newton would get along very well. Perhaps we can go on a,” he stopped himself and made a vague motion, “Well, maybe we could both bring them out to lunch sometime.”

"Believe me, it'll be easy talking her into that one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back once again! I'm absolutely loving your comments, they make me so happy. I hope you guys like the new addition, I'm pretty anxious to get the next one out soon- it's gonna be a big one. Enjoy your weekends!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and the man he was talking to looked over at him. Instead of smiling and insisting the customer come back at a later time, Aziraphale was looking between the two of them nervously, paling a bit. The man straightened, sizing Crowley up.
> 
> “Oh, uh, Gabriel, this is Crowley. Crowley, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said, forcing a smile.

Needless to say, wine nights ended up being Crowley’s favorite thing to do. Of course, they continued their meet ups which were always a good time, but the wine nights were the nights where both of them just got to relax. Crowley didn’t have to think about work and deadlines, Aziraphale was more carefree with him. There was a gnawing guilt in Crowley that made him feel like he should’ve met Aziraphale sooner. That there was missed time that he wanted to catch up on and new time to fill. Time where Aziraphale wasn’t working alone in his store during the week and spending every other weekend alone in his backroom, drinking. Crowley didn’t like the thought of it at all. It wasn’t the only reason he was increasing his time with Aziraphale, it wasn’t like he was doing it out of pity, he just couldn’t stop thinking about him. Thinking about his hands moving as he talked, his pinkie ring catching the sun, the mischievous grin he’d give before biting into a rich dessert, the way sometimes they’d walk a little too close and their shoulders would brush. They were at the point where Crowley didn’t even bother calling, stopping by whenever he pleased. Just because he could. Crowley didn’t really understand why he was feeling all of this, it was all very new and he wasn’t sure he was fond of it. It turned unpleasant every time he remembered Gabriel.

There were instances where Crowley tried to bring Gabriel back up, especially concerning the new information about other friends but it always turned into Aziraphale recounting Gabriel’s good deeds of the past week. Anything edging on bad talk would result in Aziraphale starting to look upset and that was the last thing Crowley wanted to see. 

Crowley had left work at the usual time for lunch, ignoring Anathema’s knowing look. Opening the door to the bookshop, he slung his jacket over his shoulder and leaned in the door frame.

“Aziraphale, you ready to go?”

Aziraphale and the man he was talking to looked over at him. Instead of smiling and insisting the customer come back at a later time, Aziraphale was looking between the two of them nervously, paling a bit. The man straightened, sizing Crowley up.

“Oh, uh, Gabriel, this is Crowley. Crowley, Gabriel.,” Aziraphale said, forcing a smile.

Gabriel crossed the room, meeting Crowley, who had to suppress all instincts to turn around. He shook Crowley’s hand confidently, firm enough to hurt. “Crawly, is it?”

“Crowley,” Crowley gritted out. He tried to look unaffected when his hand was released, subtly flexing it.

“Yes, I think Aziraphale’s mentioned you. Once. Where are you two off to?”

Behind Gabriel, Aziraphale had started to fidget with the sleeves on his jacket. “We were going to discuss some books over lunch. Crowley works at a research center.”

“Lunch! Perfect,” Gabriel, smiled. It didn’t look like a smile that was meant to convey any sort of positive emotion. “I’ve worked up a pretty big appetite.”

“We can always reschedule, if you two had plans,” Crowley said, not really finding a lunch with the couple being the most enticing idea. The only thing he’s gotten out of this conversation was that Aziraphale had been… not lying, but omitting the fact that they had been hanging out and it wasn’t a promising start. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“I insist. It’s on me.”

*********

In a very unfortunate turn of events, Crowley found himself sitting on the outside terrace of some little Italian place that Aziraphale had brought him before for, what he had described as, the best paninis in London. Aziraphale and Gabriel sat across from him, a horribly awkward silence over them all. Crowley sipped at his water just to have something to do after briefly glancing at his menu. Aziraphale had barely glanced at his as well, sitting unusually straight and unusually quiet, his typical quips and stories nowhere to be seen. Leaving his sunglasses on, Crowley kept a curious eye on both of them. 

A waitress came up to them, smiling like she also was wishing she was anywhere else. “Hi, are you guys ready to order?”

Gabriel set down his menu. “Yes, I will have the eggplant panini and,” he placed a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, “he’ll have the chicken salad.” He handed off the menus to the waitress and gestured to Crowley.

“Classic panini for me, thanks.” When the waitress walked off, Crowley leaned back in, draping his arm over the empty chair next to him. “He doesn’t order for himself?” He tried to keep his tone light.

Aziraphale smiled. “Gabriel always knows what I like,” he said so confidently and affectionately that if Crowley had been anyone else he would have believed him. The silence resettled.

“So, Crowley,” Gabriel started, clasping his hands together. “What kind of research do you do?”

“Astronomy,” he replied, curtly.

“You know, you don’t look like the research type of guy at all.”

“I didn’t know there was a type.”

Gabriel laughed, good-naturedly. “I’m just saying, you know, with the…” He trailed off, tapping the right side of his head. 

Crowley instinctively touched his snake tattoo in the same place. “It’s not like it’s against the rules.”

“I just never understood tattoos.” Gabriel set his arm on the back of Aziraphale’s chair and Crowley didn’t miss the way Aziraphale tensed. “I don’t get why someone would defile the sanctity of their skin with ink. Your body’s a temple.”

As if God herself was taking pity on Crowley, the waitress set down their food in front of them, giving Crowley an excuse not to answer. He didn’t have much of an appetite but if he had to eat his way out of this situation, he would. He took a large bite out of his panini, chewing slowly to avoid more conversation. Aziraphale politely picked at his salad.

“So what exactly do you do? For the research?” Gabriel started up again, because apparently Her pity only went so far. 

Taking his time, Crowley swallowed the food. “It’s mostly math.”

“Aziraphale studied math in college,“ he looked over at Aziraphale, “Didn’t you?”

Aziraphale gave an affirmative hum. 

Pleased with the answer, Gabriel turned back to Crowley. “He couldn’t do much with it. Not the sharpest tool in the shed,” he said a little too loudly.

Aziraphale laughed lightly, cheeks pink with embarrassment. His eyes darted up to Crowley and then back at his food.

There was nothing Crowley wanted more than to punch Gabriel square in his smug face. “I think he’s very smart,” Crowley said, sharply. Aziraphale was pretending he didn’t hear him. “You have to be with the business he runs.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Books. It’s a nice hobby but not much else. I mean, how hard can it be to run a bookstore? Anyone can do it.” 

Crowley was visibly grimacing, getting ready to reply when Aziraphale caught his eye. Eyes silently begging him to stay quiet, Aziraphale subtly shook his head and Crowley swallowed his retort bitterly. 

“How long have you two known each other,” Gabriel asked, pointing between them. 

Crowley shrugged. “Dunno. Few months.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Not really, dear,” Aziraphale said, nervously. “Not when we hardly see each other.”

Gabriel looked at him, scrutinizing. He smiled again. “Of course.”

The rest of the short lived meal dragged on in either silence or Gabriel initiating tense conversation, with Crowley trying to have his mouth full of food at all times to avoid saying anything back. Aziraphale stayed quiet, eating the slowest Crowley had ever seen him eat and only talking when Gabriel asked him a question directly. When he was close to being finished, Gabriel cleared his throat. 

“Aziraphale, go ask about their dinner menu. I really like it here, I think we should come back.” 

Nodding with a quiet “of course, dear,” Aziraphale left Crowley and Gabriel alone at the table.

Gabriel sighed. “Crowley, I just can’t help but feel like something else is going on. You know? Aziraphale… he’s nice. But very gullible. It’s up to me to make sure the intentions are good.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You think you can hide behind those stupid sunglasses and I wouldn’t notice anything out of place?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. 

“You just don’t look like the type Aziraphale should be hanging around. It gives a bad impression. I don’t know what you want with him, and I doubt it’s business- I mean, you could’ve at least brought up the books that this whole thing was apparently going to be about- but I think it’s probably best if you left him alone now. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of him. Also,” he laughed, “I’m not an idiot. I can read a phone bill. Just because a number doesn’t have a name in his phone doesn’t mean I can’t connect dots. Or, you know, see how many times it pops up.”

“We’re just friends,” Crowley growled out. 

“He doesn’t need any friends.”

Aziraphale returned with a dinner menu, handing it to Gabriel and startling when Crowley abruptly stood up. 

“Well, it was nice chattin’ but I’ve got to get back to the center.” He didn’t look at either of them as he walked off, too pissed to trust himself to not do something stupid. He didn’t want to accidentally make things worse for Aziraphale, even though it felt so wrong leaving him behind.

“It was nice meeting you,” Gabriel called out behind him. 

Crowley’s stomach was in knots the entire way back. He ignored everyone on his walk to his office, including Anathema who he shut his door on rather rudely. He vaguely noted to apologize to her later. Pacing the room, he tried to parse through what he just had to sit through. He didn’t like any of it. Everything about the meal screamed “wrong” and he knew he had to see Aziraphale again as soon as possible because he had a lot of questions that need answering. 

******

The next day, Crowley was back at the bookshop. The sign in the window announced that the store was currently closed, which he felt couldn’t be a good sign at all. After debating for a moment, he took out his phone and found Aziraphale’s name, hitting the call button. 

“Please answer, Aziraphale.”

Each ring was met with another, all the way through before getting to the voicemail. He groaned and tried two more times with the same result. Crowley looked back at the sign helplessly, peering into the windows to see if there was a chance Aziraphale was in there and just not in the mood to deal with customers. All of the lights were out. Frustrated, he got back in his car and drove a little too quickly back to work.

He didn’t know Gabriel. He didn’t trust Gabriel. He couldn’t gain much from what he had seen between the two of them, at least not specifics, but he sure as hell knew Aziraphale was not in a good spot. Crowley’s mind was jumping to all kinds of conclusions of what could be happening. He had to tell himself that Gabriel didn’t really seem like the murdering type and that there hadn’t been anything that would incriminate Aziraphale and himself, even though they really were just friends.

Passing by the day after, relief flooded him when he saw the lights on. He took the caution to look through the window before entering, in case Gabriel was there. 

Aziraphale looked surprised to see him. Even more so, looking like he had just been put through the wringer, exhaustion visible.

“Come on, angel, we’re getting you some food,” Crowley said, holding the door open.

There was no smile when Aziraphale followed behind Crowley. In an effort to make the upcoming talk even a little more pleasant for Aziraphale, Crowley had brought him to one of his favorite crepe places. When the food was set down in front of them, Aziraphale didn’t make a move to pick up the fork.

“You’re not gonna eat?”

“I’m not very hungry,” Aziraphale said, primly.

“Why wasn’t your shop open?”

“I was busy. Gabriel had a lot of work and needed help at home.”

Crowley sighed and rubbed at his temples. “Aziraphale, I’ve gotta ask. How did… how did you end up with a guy like Gabriel?”

Aziraphale laughed, a bit forced. “Believe me, I know we make an odd pair. He could have anyone he wanted.”

Crowley felt his stomach drop. “That’s not what I meant.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley confused, not replying. 

“Please eat,” Crowley said, hating to see Aziraphale uninterested. He didn’t even look slightly tempted. Aziraphale remained still.

”Eat,” he tried again, the words coming out a bit too loud and a bit too sharp with frustration. Guilt hit him when Aziraphale stiffened and the same neutral expression he had had almost the entire lunch with Gabriel took over his face.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said quietly, picking up the fork.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, voice tight. “You don’t… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

Aziraphale looked between Crowley and the food. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” he said.

“You don’t-” Crowley took his glasses off, closing his eyes and rubbing the heels of his palms against them. He was going to murder Gabriel.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said, again. “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m trying to be good.”

Crowley opened his eyes, pained to see Aziraphale tense like he was waiting for Crowley to yell at him.

“Is he hurting you?” He asked as softly as he could.

Aziraphale’s eyebrow’s furrowed. “Gabriel would never lay a hand on me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Aziraphale looked away from him, looking out at the people walking around. Crowley could see tears starting to well up in his eyes. 

“Aziraphale, please, you can tell me.” 

Crowley reached out to touch his hand, surprised when Aziraphale jerked it back like he had burned him.

“He’s-,” Aziraphale said, loudly. He looked up, trying to blink the tears away. “He’s not hurting me,” he said, in a more steady voice. “I told you, I’m not a very good boyfriend. It’s not his fault.” He took a deep breath. “Look at me, I shouldn’t even be here.” 

Crowley didn’t know what to say as Aziraphale was trying very hard to ignore the fact that he was now crying. He dabbed at the tears with the sleeves of his jacket like they were more of a nuisance than anything. 

“I’m making a scene,” Aziraphale mumbled. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No one’s looking, angel.” 

Aziraphale’s breathing was getting uneven despite him trying to steady himself. “I’m being ridiculous. I’m embarrassing you.” He finally looked at Crowley, eyes miserable and pleading. “Please take me home.”

Last thing Crowley was going to do was drop Aziraphale back with Gabriel. Aziraphale must’ve noticed his conflicted expression because he shook his head. “I meant the bookshop. I would like to go back to the bookshop.”

“‘Course, angel,” Crowley said gently, getting up first to help him up.

The walk back felt long despite the distance being so short. Crowley kept one hand on Aziraphale’s back, not sure how much physical contact was okay, steering him through the people. Aziraphale kept his eyes downcast, still failing at regaining composure. When they got through the bookshop doors, it was like a dam burst, tears flowing freely, startling the both of them. Crowley sat him down on the couch in the back, and hovered anxiously, not sure how to help besides passing him one of the tissues that were on the desk. 

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong? What’s he doing to you?”

“Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Talk to me, Aziraphale, I don’t know what’s going on.” Slowly, Crowley sat down on the couch next to him, looking for any indication that Aziraphale wouldn’t want him to.

“I’m very tired and you shouldn’t be here.” He blew his nose, shrinking in on himself, looking like he was trying to take up as little space as possible

“You’re allowed to have friends,” Crowley said firmly.

“Are we friends?” Aziraphale snapped at him. 

Crowley couldn’t ignore the sting that came from it. “Of course we are.”

“Are we, though? Or are you just- just looking for someone to laugh at.”

“Where is this coming from?”

Aziraphale wiped at his eyes, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, ev- everything’s very confusing right now.” He hiccupped, trying to suppress the sounds of the sobs that were trying to make their way out of his mouth.

Not being able to just watch any longer, Crowley scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Aziraphale, feeling him tense before relaxing into it. 

“Come here, angel,” he murmured, slowly pulling Aziraphale down onto him so they were both laying. Aziraphale went with him easily, shifting so they were chest to chest. Crowley let out a puff of air when Aziraphale accidentally elbowed him in the stomach in the process. He rubbed small circles on his back, soothingly, feeling tears seep through the shoulder of his shirt and Aziraphales arms hold onto him. Crowley moved his hand up to Aziraphale’s hair, running his fingers through the soft blonde strands, listening to Aziraphale’s breathing slowly calm down. Minutes passed and neither of them spoke. Now that the panic of Aziraphale crying had subsided, he was acutely aware that this was the most physical contact they had ever had. He didn’t even think they had hugged before. 

“What happened when you were gone yesterday?” Crowley said, quietly, trying to avoid getting Aziraphale upset again. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aziraphale said so softly Crowley almost missed it. “He really doesn’t lay a hand on me, though. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

“Crowley, you don’t understand. He doesn’t have a choice. I’m not good at following the rules, I’m not even supposed to be talking to you. He made himself very clear.”

“Relationships aren’t supposed to have rules like that, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale got quiet. After a moment he slowly sat up, taking care to not hurt Crowley. “He said there was no way a person like you would genuinely be interested in knowing someone like me. He said you were making fun.”

Crowley propped himself up on his elbows. “And you believed him? After all the time we’ve spent together?”

“I don’t know, it was a very long conversation and I started getting confused and… well, it really didn’t make sense when I thought about it. You’re you and you always have these fantastic stories and you dress so well and I’m-”

“Someone anyone would be blessed to know,” Crowley interjected, his serious tone leaving no room for argument.

Aziraphale laughed wetly, blushing. “Thank you.” He looked at Crowley, eyes roaming over him. “Oh! Your shirt, I’ve made a mess of it.”

“It’ll dry,” Crowley shrugged. “Are you,” he cleared his throat, “are you gonna be safe? Going home?”

“Of course.”

Crowley sat up, feeling a little helpless. He felt ridiculously out of his depth. “I’m here if you need me.” 

Aziraphale gave him a small smile. “Thank you, dear boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, the Reader/ Gabriel's Introduction slowburn au has come to an end. Thank you for all the support in the last chapter, hopefully this one didn't disappoint!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Crowley?”
> 
> “Yeah?”
> 
> “He’s gone again this weekend,” Aziraphale said, an unspoken question in his eyes.
> 
> Crowley gave him a knowing smile. “I’ll be here.”

Crowley didn’t know what to do. Going back to work after Aziraphale’s breakdown felt like torture but Aziraphale had insisted that he’d be fine, though he’d probably close the bookshop early. 

Passing by Anathema’s desk, Crowley snapped his fingers to get her attention. “Oi. My office. Now,” he said, continuing to walk without her.

The other interns looked at Anathema like they’d never see her again. 

When she walked into his office, he motioned for her to close the door. She did so before sitting down, crossing her arms.

“You know, the word please never hurt anyone. Or not being a dick.” Her glare would’ve intimidated anyone else.

Crowley waved his hand dismissively. “We’re not here to discuss me, we’re here to discuss Aziraphale.”

“Did you guys breakup? Is that why you’ve been more of an asshole than usual?”

He groaned, sinking into his chair. “Why are you the only person I discuss this with? It could’ve been anyone else. No, we didn’t break up, we’d have to be together in the first place to do that. I met Gabriel.”

Anathema perked up, leaning forward. “What? When? What happened.”

It was hard to formulate what to say. Crowley could still feel the weight of Aziraphale on him. Could still see his tear-stained face and hear his broken words. Everything felt too private. He suddenly wished he hadn’t brought it up. That he could send Anathema out of his office and try to fix this himself but he wasn’t sure if it was something fixable. He knew he was the worst person to take this on alone and he knew that he couldn’t think of any of his friends that he could turn to with this. He took a deep breath, wiping his hand over his face.

“Well. Gabriel’s an absolute bastard,” Crowley spit out. Probably not the best way to start the story but it had to be said. “I had lunch with him and Aziraphale. Anathema, I say this very seriously. Aziraphale needs help. I don’t know what to do.” The last bit came out the most sincere he had ever sounded in front of Anathema. Her face turned concerned immediately.

“What do you mean help? What’s happening?” 

Crowley threw his hands up. “I don’t know what’s bloody happening! Aziraphale won’t tell me! Today I took him out to ask him about it and… and he started crying. Like, _crying_. You should’ve seen the way he was with Gabriel, I almost didn’t recognize him. It was like he had been replaced by a- fuck, I don’t know, it just wasn’t him. He sat there and everything he said sounded scripted. And today he wasn’t eating and I was worried and I raised my voice just a bit and the way he looked at me… It was awful. It was like he disappeared. He looked at me like I was gonna hurt him. He said Gabriel wasn’t physically harming him and it sounded like he was telling the truth but… but the bastard insulted him and monitors his phone and doesn’t let him order his own food. He told him I was only his friend to ridicule him and- oh, you know what happened? Gabriel got me alone to tell me to stop talking to Aziraphale. Somethin’ about me not being the type Aziraphale should be seen with. He’s got no other friends for fuck’s sake.” He finished his rant and looked at Anathema expectantly. “Well?”

Anathema looked like she was concentrating hard, trying to piece together what was just said in a linear fashion. “Well.”

“Well, what do I do,” Crowley asked, exasperated. 

She stayed quiet for a minute. “How long have they been together?”

“Uh,” Crowley frowned, trying to remember. “Five years, I think he said.”

“Crowley… That’s a long time. This isn’t gonna be something you can just step into and make it all go away,” she said, gently, her eyes filled with pity. “Even if you get him away from Gabriel there’s gonna be some pretty deep scars.”

“But what can I do?” He asked more desperately.

“I don’t know, I don’t have all the answers.” She sighed. “I guess if you could find out more, that’d be helpful. Encourage him to reach out. Be patient. Do little things to make him feel better. You can try to get him to break up with Gabriel but it’s important that he knows he has a safety net when he does. Just… Crowley?”

“What?”

“How serious are you about him?”

That was a question he was not prepared for. It took him a moment for him to answer. “I don’t know,” he said, truthfully.

“It’s just,” Anathema adjusted her glasses, “this isn’t a game. You’re getting pretty deep into this and I know you went into it with, um, ulterior motives, but please don’t make him feel like you’re there for one reason when you’re not, okay? If he’s being abused, he’s very vulnerable.”

Hearing the word abuse made everything worse. Yeah, he had been thinking it, but it was different hearing it said out loud. It also stung to hear how lowly she thought of him.

“I wouldn’t hurt him. We’re friends,” he said, trying to sound unaffected.

“I know, I’m just making sure.” 

***********

Not quite wanting a repeat of their last meal together, Crowley had made sure to ask what Aziraphale would want to eat. It took a bit of persuasion, but Aziraphale had agreed to pasta, admitting to be rather hungry. 

As they ate, Aziraphale kept sneaking glances over at Crowley and while he had been kind enough to pretend he didn’t notice the first handful of times, and was getting a bit of a thrill out of the attention, it was starting to make him a bit self conscious.

“Do I have something on my face,” Crowley asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’d tell you if you did.”

“You would not. You’d let me walk around like that for laughs.”

“How dare you accuse me of such things,” Aziraphale said, pretending to be offended.

“Seriously, tell me if I’ve got sauce on my face, you keep looking over.” 

Aziraphale looked slightly embarrassed. “Truly, there’s nothing there. I just… I wanted to thank you. For the other day. It was quite mortifying on my part but it was very kind of you.”

“There’s no need to feel bad about it, angel. And no need to thank me either, you’re gonna singlehandedly ruin my reputation.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Aziraphale said with a fond smile. He took a bite of his fettuccinie alfredo humming with satisfaction. “Crowley, you must try this. It’s much better the last place we had it.” 

“I’ll pass.” Crowley said, spinning his own pasta idly with his fork. He looked up and suppressed a smile when he saw Aziraphale had some of the sauce right below his mouth. “Well, now, it looks like you’re the one with something on your face.” 

“Hm?”

Crowley grabbed his napkin, leaning forward, before he knew what he was doing. His hand paused, Aziraphale’s eyes wide on him. It felt a bit too intimate but he was already there. He gently cleaned it off.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, faintly blushing. “Thank you.”

Crowley made a noncommittal noise, focusing his attention back on his food.

The rest of the meal involved Aziraphale excitedly talking about how there was a woman who was moving to Barcelona to soul search and had come to the decision to sell her book collection, involving many first editions, all in impeccable shape. Crowley was only half paying attention, a bit stuck on how to approach the topic of Gabriel again. It felt wrong to just completely brush off Aziraphale’s breakdown.

He waited until he dropped Aziraphale off at the bookshop, lightly touching his shoulder.

“Uh, Aziraphale?”

“Yes?”

“You know… If you ever need to, um. Talk about… what goes on between you and Gabriel. You can. To me.”

Aziraphale gave him a melancholic smile. “Thank you.”

Crowley nodded and was about to turn to leave when Aziraphale stopped him.

“Crowley?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s gone again this weekend,” Aziraphale said, an unspoken question in his eyes.

Crowley gave him a knowing smile. “I’ll be here.”

*******

Do little things to make him feel better. Lunch was something they always did. Yeah, it cheered Aziraphale up but it was too normal. The last week and a half had been pretty brutal, Crowley wanted to do something special. Something small but special and wine night was a perfect time for this. Usually emptyhanded, Crowley had bought a box of Belgium chocolates at the store attached to some upscale patisserie. He felt a bit uncertain now that he was at the bookshop. 

Crowley knocked and like usual, the door opened seconds after. Aziraphale beamed at him. 

“Crowley, dear, I hope you don’t mind, I’m about a glass and a half ahead of you.”

“Not at all.” He shifted on his feet. “I, uh, brought you these,” he said, casually, handing the box off and stepping inside.

Aziraphale stared down at the box for a few seconds before looking back up at Crowley. “Thank you,” he said, with a softer smile. “Is there a special occasion?

Crowley shrugged. “Just thought you’d like ‘em.”

“Well. They look lovely.”

They moved to the backroom where Crowley helped himself to the wine and Aziraphale busied himself with getting the box open. It didn’t take long before he was slowly popping a chocolate into his mouth with a sigh. Crowley was watching a little too intently, peering over his glass.

“Oh, Crowley, these are just divine. And they pair with the wine so nicely. Would you like one?” He held one out.

Crowley shook his head. “Nah, you know me and sweets.”

Aziraphale took a rather large drink of his wine before eating another. “What’s new at the research center? Do tell me how Anathema is getting along.”

Filling him in, Crowley covered the usual bases, loving how invested Aziraphale was in the petty drama like who was rumored to be hooking up with who and new leads in the lunch thievery. Crowley noticed Aziraphale was a bit more quiet than usual so he let himself ramble a bit. He had barely finished his first glass when Aziraphale seemed to be finishing his third and pouring himself a rather generous fourth. 

“You alright, angel? You’re going pretty fast there.”

“I’m fine, thank you. I think I had quite the craving.”

He poured Crowley’s second though Crowley was already deciding he’d take this one slow, just in case he ended up needing to take care of Aziraphale.

By the third hour, Aziraphale was already a bit above the level of drunkenness they usually stop at by the end of their meet-ups. Being more sober than usual, Crowley was finding him extra amusing. He had loosened up and was talking as at impressive lengths, despite the slight slurring, and laughing at all of Crowley’s jokes- even the admittedly horrendous ones. 

He went to pour another glass and Crowley stopped his hand.

“I rather feel I should cut you off there, angel.”

Aziraphale pouted. “I’m good for one more.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Crowley laughed. 

Aziraphale huffed and sat down on the couch next to him, closer than before. He gazed up at him, one hand coming up and touching underneath Crowley’s chin, causing him to freeze.

“Aziraphale?”

“Your tattoo. I’ve never seen it this close.” He got up a bit, so he was sitting on his knees, inching even closer. He put a hand on Crowley’s thigh to balance himself. Crowley tensed. It felt like there was electricity sparking through Aziraphale. 

Crowley responded with a strained noise as Aziraphale slowly guided his head to the side to give himself a better look at the snake winding next to his ear. He traced it with his free hand.

“Did it hurt?,” Aziraphale asked, breath, ghosting over Crowley’s cheek.

Crowley felt himself get goosebumps. “A bit,” he admitted.

Aziraphale hummed. “It’s beautiful.”

Crowley was going to respond when he felt soft lips brushing lightly against the side of his face. The hand on his thigh moved, smoothly inching upward. 

“Crowley, you’re beautiful.”

All of the blood in Crowley’s body was trying to decide whether to go to his face, which was heating up rapidly, or his dick, now starting to take interest. 

“Aziraphale, wha-”

Aziraphale’s hand traveled farther up, caressing the inside of his thigh. Despite Crowley's brain short-circuiting, he stopped him, holding onto his wrist.

“What are you doing?” Crowley asked, a bit breathless.

“What does it look like I’m doing, dear boy?” 

Against his better judgement, he loosened his grip on Aziraphale who was watching Crowley’s every reaction as he went a little higher, stopping just short of it’s destination. Crowley wasn’t moving, afraid that if he did, he’d break the moment. Aziraphale nuzzled his neck, thumb drawing circles on his thigh.

“Crowley, I want you so bad,” Aziraphale sighed. It felt like Crowley was in a fantasy, already unbelievably turned on.

Aziraphale took his hand off Crowley’s thigh, instead grabbing at his jacket and pulling, falling back onto the couch. Crowley flailed, managing to somewhat brace himself, now hovering over Aziraphale. While he was keeping their chests separated, their hips were dangerously close. Aziraphale was looking up at him, eyes full of lust. They stayed like that until Aziraphale got impatient.

“Crowley, please,” Aziraphale whined, canting his hips up. 

Crowley groaned at the friction. He could feel how hard Aziraphale was under the layers of clothes and he felt himself quickly getting there as well.

“Aziraphale, I’m, uh-” 

Aziraphale was grabbing at Crowley’s hips, and unable to resist, Crowley obliged, grinding down. The breathy ‘ah’ that came out of Aziraphale’s mouth was delectable. He looked down at Aziraphale, face flushed with wine and arousal and wanted nothing more than to take him right there. He knew he couldn’t.

Using an impressive amount of self restraint, he lifted himself up a bit. Anathema’s words were ringing in his ears. Aziraphale was vulnerable right now. In this case, vulnerable and very drunk. The last thing he wanted was for Aziraphale to think their first time was a drunken mistake or thinking that Crowley had taken advantage of him. He especially didn't want for him to be beating himself up about cheating on Gabriel. It just had bad idea written all over it.

“Azira- Aziraphale, stop, we can’t,” Crowley said, sternly.

Aziraphale stopped moving and stared up at him. “What?”

“We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

Still flustered, Crowley tried to find the right words. “It’s… This isn’t good. Doesn't help that you’re sloshed. We can’t.”

Aziraphale’s face fell. He stayed quite for a few seconds, searching Crowley’s face. “You call me angel,” he said, softly.

Crowley was trying very hard not to cave. It’d be so easy to lean down and kiss the disappointed expression away. To taste the wine and chocolate. “I’m sorry.”

He maneuvered himself off the couch and Aziraphale stayed still.

Finally, Aziraphale sighed. "It's okay."

Crowley crouched down next to the couch and ran a hand through Aziraphale’s hair as he turned onto his side to look at him.

“I should probably go,” Crowley said, regretfully.

“I should probably sleep,” Aziraphale replied.

*****

After an uncomfortable ride back, Crowley was finally home, shutting his door a little too hard for the time of night. All he could think about was the way Aziraphale had said his name and how good he felt under him. His pants still felt uncomfortably tight. He groaned and rested his forehead on the cool wood of his door, letting his hand venture down and palm himself through his pants. The pressure felt too good. 

Already resigning himself to taking the edge off, he made his way to the bedroom, sprawling out on the bed and unzipping his pants. He started feeling himself through his underwear. He reached over and fumbled for lube in his bedside drawer, squirting some into his hand. Closing his eyes, he pushed down his pants and underwear enough for him to wrap his hand around his dick. 

He replayed it all over in his head, able to recall how everything felt, vividly. Aziraphale’s hand. How needy he had looked. How desperate. Crowley didn’t have patience to take things slow tonight. He bit his lip and started up a good pace. He wondered how Aziraphale’s hand would feel on his dick. If, instead, he would’ve let himself travel all the way up, unzipped Crowley’s pants and got him off right there. Would he have wanted to stick with his hand or get down on his knees?

Crowley groaned at the image. Aziraphale, mouth open and ready, taking Crowley in like he had with the chocolates. Hell, Crowley would’ve been fine getting off with the frottage they had started. He thought of the way Aziraphale had looked when Crowley had given him the friction he had been so desperate for. There were so many noises Crowley hadn’t had the chance to hear. He wanted to hear what Aziraphale sounded like moaning his name. He’d give anything to see the face Aziraphale made when he came. He wondered if Aziraphale would be loud. It had sounded like it.

Crowley quickened his pace, getting more desperate. What he’d give to have seen Aziraphale come completely undone by his hand. To fuck him right there on the couch. Show him that Crowley could take better care of him than anyone else could. He tightened his grip, imagining what Aziraphale would feel like. Hot and perfect around him. He felt his own heat building up. God, he wanted to claim him for his own. Let Aziraphale claim him in return. He’d gladly give up all hookups forever if it meant he’d get to have Aziraphale. In a way he already had. He felt a jolt of pleasure thinking about fucking Aziraphale in the backroom during a lunch break. Going back to work and leaving him to deal with customers, freshly fucked out of his mind.

Biting back a moan, Crowley came hard, hips bucking off the bed. He laid there, trying to steady his breathing. After calming down a bit, he brought up his hand, now covered in come, and tried not to think about all the scenarios that had just played out in his head. He looked up at the ceiling.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no words for the feedback I got from the last chapter! Thank you guys so much, I had so much fun reading your comments. I really hope you like the new addition!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Crowley, I- I didn’t think you’d be coming today,” Aziraphale said, nervously.
> 
> So he did remember. Crowley stepped in.
> 
> “Thought we might need to talk about some things,” he shrugged.

The next morning all Crowley had to do was tap on Anathema’s desk to get her to follow him into his office. He paced instead of sitting down as he waited for her to close the door and sit. 

“What happened?” Anathema asked, wearily.

He ran a hand through his hair and sat down dramatically. “I need advice.”

“Yeah, I got that much.” 

Crowley wrinkled his nose. Honestly, she should feel a little bit honored that she was his go-to for this. This was important stuff. He almost wanted to be petty and not tell her but, knowing Aziraphale, this was going to be a very delicate subject matter and he didn’t want to fuck things up.

“So,” he said, tenting his fingers, “let’s say… you go over to someone’s place, right?”

Anathema sighed, impatiently. “I already know who you’re talking about, we don’t need hypothetic-”

“You go over to someone’s place. At night,” Crowley interjected. “And you… have a few drinks. Well, actually, you only have a couple but that someone has a bit more than you and- er, a lot bit more and-”

Now it was her turn to interrupt him. Her expression had shifted and she was looking at him like she had personally witnessed him kicking a puppy. “Crowley… Please tell me you didn’t.”

Crowley knew he didn’t but he couldn’t help the slightly guilty face he made, thinking about leaving Aziraphale drunk and alone so he could go home and wank. Before he could open his mouth to explain, she had already taken it as a confession of guilt.

“After our talk?” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “Really? Did you not take anything from that?”

“Now, wait a minute, you didn’t let me answer!” 

Anathema waited, one eyebrow raise, ready to scold.

“Nothing happened,” Crowley said, placatingly. “But I don’t know if that’s gonna be a problem.”

Anathema squinted at him and deciding that he was telling the truth. “Why would that be a problem?”

Crowley swayed a bit in his chair, feeling awkward talking about it. “Let’s just say… He got very drunk and came on a bit strong, so I did the gentlemanly thing and went home.”

“Aziraphale hit on you.”

“Ehh… Bit more than that. But, yes.”

Anathema’s eyebrows went up. “Bit more than that? I thought you said nothing happened.”

Crowley was trying very hard to pretend his face wasn’t getting a bit red. “There was,” he made a vague hand gesture in the air, “some touching. On his part. I mean, not on his _part_ but, you know. Him. Doing the touching. Mostly.”

“And then you left.”

“And then I left,” Crowley confirmed.

Anathema rested her chin in her hand, tapping her fingers on her cheek. “Did he say anything? What did _you_ say?”

Crowley shrugged. “Didn’t say much. I think I said it was a bad idea. He said it was okay we didn’t do anything. Seemed a little disappointed, but that’s about it.” The image of Aziraphale’s face as Crowley told him no flashed in his head. Crowley could hear the small ‘you call me angel’ too clearly. He cleared his throat. “I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable now. Do I give him space? Pretend nothing happened? I dunno how many of these big talks I can keep having, I’m shit at them.”

“Big talks are necessary in relationships, Crowley,” Anathema said, slightly amused. He frowned, the knee jerk reaction to protest to the word about to make it’s appearance. “And friendships,” Anathema said, before he could open his mouth, “are relationships, too, so don’t start. Besides, you’re gonna have to get used to it if you do ever date him.”

Crowley crossed his arms, not about to admit to how bad he was finding himself wanting that. “We’re missing the advice part of this conversation Miss Device.”

Anathema shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to drop by sooner rather than later and talk about it. Better to do that than let it sit if there is a problem. If he says he wants some space then give him space.” She thought about it. ”Do not disappear on him without saying anything, I swear to God, Crowley.”

“You know, it hurts how little faith you have in me.”

******

It was easier to deal with this now. Crowley repeated that to himself on the way to the bookshop the day after. Nothing had happened between them therefore nothing has changed. Except now, Crowley knew that Aziraphale was interested in him that way. That was not something that would be forgotten any time soon. Unless, it had actually just been drunken neediness born from having a shit boyfriend and no one else around. Crowley didn’t understand why things had to be so complicated, all he wanted was for Aziraphale to be happy. To make him happy.

The bookshop sign pronounced itself as closed but Crowley could see Aziraphale bustling around in there. There was a chance that Aziraphale actually didn’t remember- he had had quite a lot. Crowley couldn’t decide if he would’ve preferred it that way. 

When he tried the door, it didn’t budge so he knocked to get his attention. Aziraphale looked up from his organizing, and froze. Crowley almost didn’t think Aziraphale was going to let him in but finally he was hesitantly walking over to unlock the door, only glancing at Crowley once as he did.

“Crowley, I- I didn’t think you’d be coming today,” Aziraphale said, nervously.

So he did remember. Crowley stepped in.

“Thought we might need to talk about some things,” he shrugged. 

“I believe we do,” Aziraphale said, visibly trying not to fidget. “Um, would you like to go to the back?”

Crowley followed him, feeling a bit off when Aziraphale sat on the couch instead of his usual seat. He was sitting proper, avoiding eye contact. Crowley took the chair. 

“I want to apologize,” Aziraphale said, delicately. “My behavior last night was… inexcusable. I understand if this is just a formality to, um, break things off, if that’d be the appropriate term.”

Crowley’s raised his eyebrows, taken aback. He had been expecting a bit of embarrassment but not enough to think it’s necessary to never see each other. “Woah, woah, woah. Aziraphale, it’s fine. I came by to make sure you knew things were fine, that’s all.”

Aziraphale looked up at him, pained. “Crowley, I- I tried to,” he looked away again, “to _force_ myself onto you, I-” 

“No,” Crowley said. A part of him wanted to laugh at how absurd that interpretation of the night’s events was but he suppressed the reaction. “You didn’t.”

Aziraphale looked at him like he didn’t quite believe it. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said, quietly. 

Crowley tried not to feel hurt. Maybe it had just been the alcohol and proximity.

“You’re just so kind to me,” Aziraphale continued. “And you held me the other day and I thought… I don’t know. It was silly of me. I do know how other people see me and I should’ve known better.”

Crowley was going to correct him on the ‘silly’ part but it was the last sentence that caught his attention. “What does that mean, how other people see you?” He knew first hand what it was like to see Aziraphale and it wasn’t anything but a very positive experience.

“You don’t have to be nice,” Aziraphale said, with a bitter laugh. “I’m not exactly, well, you. Or Gabriel. Gabriel won’t even look at me half the time when we’re… well,” Aziraphale pursed his lips, chancing another glance at Crowley. His eyes were missing their usual sparkle, looking dull and tired and sad. “It’s like he looks right through me most of the time. Of course, he tries to help and fix it but…. It shouldn’t have even been a thought that you might feel anything other than the same. It was stupid, really, and you shouldn’t have felt the need to apologize. I’m sorry I endangered our friendship.”

Crowley was at a loss for words. He stared at Aziraphale, trying to figure out how to respond. “Angel…”

“I don’t deserve to be called that,” Aziraphale said, frustrated, screwing his eyes shut. “I’m not good, I’m- I’m- I’m not,” he took a deep breath and flexed his hands, making them into fists.

Not knowing what else to do, Crowley reached out and grabbed them, instinctually. Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked down at them, Crowley’s thumbs stroking back and forth over the top.

“You can’t be saying that shit about yourself, Aziraphale. I don’t care what the fuck Gabriel is telling you.” Crowley wasn’t sure what else to say. It wasn’t exactly the best time to say that he would’ve been extremely willing to fuck with proper consent. 

They both stayed quiet, Crowley adjusting to the new physicality. After a few moments passed, Aziraphale finally spoke.

“Does it count as cheating?” he asked, quietly.

Crowley squeezed his hands slightly, getting his attention enough to make eye contact. “You don’t have to worry about that. We didn’t even kiss, alright?”

Aziraphale gave him a sad smile. He looked like he was about to say something, opening his mouth slightly but closing it again, changing his mind. He sighed.

Crowley gave him a teasing smile. “Hey, for the record- I, um, I wouldn’t’ve said no under other circumstances,” he admitted. “You’re quite the catch.”

Even though Aziraphale gave a disbelieving eyeroll, it did cause a more genuine smile to appear on his face. “Thank you, Crowley,” he said, in a tone that definitely meant he was interpreting it as insincere but appreciated.

“I mean it.”

Aziraphale laughed, lightly. “Of course you do.” He withdrew his hands from Crowley’s gentle hold, clasping them in his lap. 

Crowley’s hands felt empty. “Aziraphale, I’m being serious. You’re perfect. You can’t let some douchebag tell you you’re not.”

Aziraphale’s smile disappeared. ”Don’t say that. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, I see the way you act around him. You don’t have to pretend around me,” Crowley tried. 

“I love him and he loves me,” Aziraphale said, defiantly, like he had rehearsed it many times before. 

Not wanting to get Aziraphale worked up, Crowley didn’t comment. He didn’t like hearing it but he didn’t need Aziraphale getting upset at him. 

“Thank you for not leaving,” Aziraphale said, a bit more unsure.

“Like you could get rid of me.” Crowley stood and held out his hand. “Let me take you out?”

Aziraraphale looked at it, meeting Crowley's eyes before taking it, using it as leverage to stand. “Where to today, dear boy?”

“Dunno about you but I’ve got a hankering for seafood.”

“That sounds lovely.” Aziraphale looked grateful that the subject of Gabriel was being dropped. It took all of Crowley’s self control to not try to convince him that he needed to get out. That he had options. That he didn't need to be controlled and belittled. That Crowley was ready and right there.

“What was that one place you liked? They had, uh… that one thing I wouldn’t try. It looked gross.”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. “Oh, the octopus cocktail!”

“The fish there was good. Still not trying that, though.”

Aziraphale smiled fondly and linked their arms and Crowley felt accomplished, if not a little flustered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter but I hope you enjoy! I apologize for the shortness and the delay in updating, life has been pretty busy. Thank you, as always, for the comments they make me so happy!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t play at that,” Crowley groaned. “Seriously, what do you want? Flowers? Fruit basket? Train ticket to Paris?”
> 
> “Can I meet him?” Anathema asked, trying to hide her excitement.

“I owe you one,” Crowley said, peering over Anathema’s desk.

“What?”

“I owe you one,” he repeated. “I mean it. Could’ve turned out… real pear-shaped with Aziraphale.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Don’t play at that,” Crowley groaned. “Seriously, what do you want? Flowers? Fruit basket? Train ticket to Paris?”

“Can I meet him?” Anathema asked, trying to hide her excitement.

“What?” Crowley asked, confused.

“Can I meet him?” Anathema repeated. “Come on, you can’t be giving me all this information and then hoard him.”

“I do not hoard Aziraphale,” Crowley said, indignantly. “But, yeah, fine, you can meet him.” He did, in fact, want to hoard Aziraphale but honestly, Aziraphale could definitely use the socialization. “Did you want to come today?”

She smiled up at him. “Hell yes.”

“You know… Aziraphale says he knows a ‘lovely lad’ named Newton,“ Crowley said, using air quotes, “that is very single.” He raised his eyebrows, teasingly.

“I think if you play matchmaker with me I might have to kill you.”

“It was just a suggestion.”

****

The car ride over to the bookshop involved a lot of criticism of Crowley’s driving which he pointedly ignored. Swinging the bookshop door open, he was happy to see Aziraphale behind the counter looking much better than he had the other day.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said with that familiar smile.

“Hey, Aziraphale, I brought a guest,” Crowley said, moving out of the way for Anathema. Aziraphale looked a little confused.

“I’m Anathema,” she said, holding out her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Aziraphale looked between her and Crowley, excitedly. He clasped her hand with both of his. “Oh, I’ve heard so much about you, dear. Crowley’s told me so many wonderful things.”

Anathema glanced over at Crowley with a pleased smile. Crowley stuck his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes.

“Will you be joining us for lunch?” Aziraphale asked.

“If that’s okay with you.” Anathema said, politely.

“Of course it is! You choose the place, wherever you want.”

***

Anathema opted for the bistro that was frequented by Crowley and Aziraphale. They sat at a round table outside. Aziraphale was practically buzzing with excited energy and Crowley felt a tug in his chest, looking at him. It was like he was radiating warmth. His hand was on the table and it took everything in Crowley’s power to not reach out and hold it. He didn’t notice he was staring until Anathema kicked him lightly under the table. 

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve had an outing like this,” Aziraphale admitted, smiling at Anathema. “It’s quite the treat.”

She smiled back at him and Crowley could tell there was a hint of sympathy in it. “I’d love to join whenever you want.”

When their food came, Aziraphale gladly accepted his plate from the waitress. He had convinced the other two that they had to try the croque madame and was about to dig into his own when he glanced a bit nervously at Anathema who had started eating hers slowly, focusing more on their conversation about books. He opted for small, delicate bites. Crowley shared a look with Anathema.

She took a large bite of the sandwich, making a satisfied noise. “This is so good,” she said. “Crowley mentioned that you’re a bit of a foodie, I think I’m gonna have to start taking recommendations from you.”

Aziraphale smiled, pleased. “I’m so glad you like it. Crowley’s a bit of a lost cause when it comes to food but he humors me,” he teased. “I’d love to show you some good spots around town.” He started eating like his normal self and Crowley looked at Anathema appreciatively.

They continued their talk and Aziraphale was raving about his collection of prophecy books he had been building, excited that Anathema had an interest. Crowley had eaten most of his sandwich and was resting his chin in his hand as he enjoyed the view of Aziraphale’s hands gesturing every which way, only stopping for the occasional bite of his food, always accompanied by an appreciative noise. As much as he loved talking to Aziraphale, it was the first time Crowley had him distracted so he could unabashedly soak in everything about him. It was nice to see him so happy. He couldn’t help but wonder what Aziraphale would do if Crowley leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Crowley knew it would feel like the most natural thing in the world. He liked to imagine that Aziraphale would laugh, fondly. Maybe give him a chaste peck on the lips in return. He didn’t notice Anathema’s amused looks his way.

“I have to say,” Anathema said, mischievously. “I mean, you’re all Crowley talks about and, honestly, I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even better in person.”

Aziraphale blushed, looking over at Crowley who was sputtering, glaring at Anathema. “Oh! Well, um, thank you. I can hardly think of anything that would’ve been noteworthy enough to share,” he laughed.

“Believe me. Hours worth of things.”

“I do not,” Crowley said, embarrassed, face turning red. “What were you, uh- weren’t you guys talking about misprints or something?”

Aziraphale was giving him a look that he couldn’t parse. He would give anything to be able to know what was going on in Aziraphale’s head. He gave Crowley a small smile before turning his attention back to Anathema.

“Um, yes, I believe we were,” Aziraphale said. “But I’d love to hear more about your work. Crowley said you were doing very impressive research.”

“Impressive, huh?” Anathema asked, teasingly.

Crowley groaned. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get a big head.”

It was only a few more minutes before a waitress was clearing their table. “Are you going to be ordering anything else today?”

Crowley looked over at Aziraphale. “Did you want any dessert, angel?” He asked, without thinking. 

Aziraphale pursed his lips, thinking about it. “I think I’ll pass, dear boy. As tempting as it sounds, I think it was the frites that filled me up. They were rather scrummy today. Anathema? Did you want anything?”

She was looking between them, with an odd expression. “Oh, uh, no. I’m fine.”

The waitress nodded and left them with the check.

Crowley looked at his watch. “I s’ppose we’re finishing at a good time anyway. Breaks just about over.” 

****

Aziraphale had given Anathema a tight hug when they dropped him off at the bookshop. He declined her offer to exchange phone numbers but said she was welcome to come in at any time.

Anathema barely waited for the doors to the Bentley to close before speaking. "You’ve got it so bad.”

“Shut up,” Crowley drawled, starting the car up.

“I’m… I don’t even know where to start. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that.”

Crowley ignored her, focusing on the road for once.

“He didn’t even react to you calling him angel! Do you do that all the time?”

“It’s a habit, alright?”

“Honestly, you guys already looked like a couple. I think you probably looked away from him for five minutes that entire time.” Anathema was looking at him like he was a completely different person. “You know, every time he looked at you he had the same expression as yours.”

His hand gripped the wheel a bit tighter. “That’d be nice to hear if he wasn’t with Gabriel. He said he loved him, you know.”

Anathema deflated a bit at that, remembering the situation. “But did he say it like he meant it?”

Crowley didn’t answer for a minute. “No. But he said it like he wanted to believe it.”

****

Crowley came in at the usual time the next day, a bit anxious to have Aziraphale’s attention to himself sooner rather than later. It took him by surprise when someone who was absolutely not Aziraphale was sitting behind the counter. He looked like a disheveled college student.

“Welcome in,” the guy said, trying out a customer service smile that didn’t fit him.

“Er, right,” Crowley replied. This was a new development he wasn’t particularly fond of. He could hear movement in the backroom and was pleased, knowing Aziraphale was still in. He made a move to go find him.

“You’re not allowed in there actually.” 

“Piss off,” Crowley said, annoyed. He could do what he wants. He kept walking.

“Um, Mr. Fell?” The guy shouted in a panicked voice.

Aziraphale came out and looked overjoyed to see Crowley. “Oh! You scoundrel, are you pestering Newton? I didn’t think I’d be seeing you today.”

“It’s just… Newt,” Newt said, weakly, aware that Crowley was barely paying attention to him.

“Newton, this is Crowley,” Aziraphale said, putting a hand on Crowley’s arm. “Will you be alright holding the shop down while I’m gone? You can close up if you like. I should be back in an hour.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He was looking between them with a bit more understanding in his eyes.

“So that was Newton?” Crowley asked as they were leaving. Aziraphale hadn’t taken his hand off Crowley’s arm, instead holding it as if he wasn’t even thinking about what he was doing. 

“Yes. Isn’t he just adorable?”

“Not sure he’d be Anathema’s type,” Crowley said, decidedly not finding Newt adorable.

“Speaking of!” Aziraphale said, brightly. “I wanted to thank you for bringing her by the other day. I had so much fun.”

Crowley smiled at him. “Glad to hear it, angel.”

“Did she, um, did she say anything? About me? I feel I may have been a bit overbearing conversationally, I do hope I didn’t offend her.”

“Believe me, she loves you,” Crowley said. 

“Oh, wonderful,” Aziraphale said, pleased.

Crowley’s mind produced an ‘and so do I’ to the end of 'she loves you', startling him. He must’ve made a face because Aziraphale had looked over and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Is something the matter, dear boy?”

“Hm?” Crowley snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh, uh, no. Spaced out for a second.”

Aziraphale accepted the reason, easily, moving on to ask him about how his plants were coming along, specifically his newest addition that he was nursing back to health.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your feedback makes my days brighter! I really wanted a more Anathema-centric chapter, I feel like she deserves it at this point. Also giving Aziraphale a bit of a break. Hope you like it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It only took a few minutes before he heard the bell jingle and Aziraphale’s voice. Crowley was walking out, about to greet him when he spotted Gabriel next to him. Gabriel met his eye.

Dropping Aziraphale off, Crowley followed him back into the bookshop for once. It was a first for him to see Newt in the shop at all so if he wanted to talk to him it was probably a good idea to do it now. Who knew the next opportunity he’d get to grill him about Gabriel.

“Hope you don’t mind if I look at some of the old gardening books before I head back, angel,” Crowley said, eyes roaming the bookshop shelves, casually.

Aziraphale patted his arm. “Help yourself, dear boy. You will have to excuse me, though. I’m trying to get my taxes in order before the day’s out.”

“I don’t mind,” Crowley said, waving him off. 

Before disappearing completely into the back, Aziraphale looked over to give Crowley one last smile. Crowley waited a minute before walking over to Newt, placing his elbows on the counter.

“Need help finding anything?” Newt asked, eyeing him wearily.

“I was wondering if you could give me some information, Newton.”

“It’s really just Newt,” Newt said, trying to gauge Crowley’s expression despite the sunglasses. “What kind of information?”

“Just wondering if you know much about Gabriel.”

Newt shifted uncomfortably and looked over to the entrance of the backroom. “I feel like it’s a bit... rude. To be talking about Mr. Fell’s personal life.”

“I just wanna know what you think about him,” Crowley said, shrugging. “No harm in that. I’m Aziraphale’s friend.”

“Uh,” Newt frowned. “Actually, I don’t know too much. I’ve only met him a couple times and he seemed like a really nice guy. He brought flowers for Mr. Fell once.”

That was not what Crowley wanted to hear.

“Does Aziraphale talk about him at all?” 

“Not really. Sometimes he’ll talk about date nights.”

“Anything bad, though,” Crowley tried.

“I guess he complains sometimes about Gabriel’s movie choices. Are you asking because you’re interested in him?” 

“Don’t be nosy,” Crowley said, straightening. “Aziraphale, I’m heading out,” he shouted, aimed towards the backroom.

“Mind how you go, dear,” Aziraphale shouted back.

He gave Newt a nod as he left. He was honestly a bit annoyed. He knew it wasn’t the kid’s fault that Gabriel put up a front, but Newt had known Aziraphale longer than Crowley had and he really didn’t notice anything awry. 

*****

Throughout the rest of the week, Anathema wouldn’t stop talking about Aziraphale and how cute they had been together. When she finally did, it was because she got into a very heated debate with another intern about the environmental impacts of nuclear power that turned ugly pretty quick. It did provide entertainment for Aziraphale, though, when Crowley gave him updates.

It was another lunch day when Crowley showed up to the bookshop finding it to be empty despite the front door being unlocked. He checked the backroom and called out to Aziraphale. Nothing. He was about to check upstairs but, having never been up there before, felt it to be a little invasive. If Aziraphale was out, it wouldn’t be long before he would be in again. He took a seat in the backroom while he waited, picking up one of the older astronomy books Aziraphale had set aside for him to skim through.

It only took a few minutes before he heard the bell jingle and Aziraphale’s voice. Crowley was walking out, about to greet him when he spotted Gabriel next to him. Gabriel met his eye. Crowley froze. It was too late to do much of anything- going back into the room without saying anything felt a bit incriminating for Aziraphale. He was trying to think of what to say but Gabriel didn’t react, casually looking back down at Aziraphale who was still thanking him for the outing, facing away and oblivious to Crowley’s current crisis.

“I’ve gotta be heading back to work,” Gabriel said, caressing Aziraphale’s face, tilting his head up. Aziraphale tensed.

“Of course,” Aziraphale said. 

Gabriel leaned in, catching Crowley’s eye briefly before kissing Aziraphale, who relaxed into him. It was a few soft kisses before Gabriel deepened it. Crowley’s stomach churned, a sharp pang of jealousy stuck in his chest as Aziraphale’s hands came up to gently grab onto Gabriel’s shoulders. That bastard shouldn’t even be breathing in the same space as Aziraphale, let alone have him like that. Aziraphale made a pleased noise as Gabriel pulled him flush against him and Crowley had had enough. Especially with Gabriel’s hand starting to move lower down Aziraphale’s back.

Crowley shut the book he was holding, loudly, and cleared his throat. Aziraphale startled, looking over. He placed on Gabriel’s chest, putting some distance between them as Gabriel kept his hold. 

“Crowley! I- I didn’t know you were here,” Aziraphale said, visibly embarrassed. 

“Came by to pick up the book I needed. Door was open,” Crowley said, holding it up. “Gabriel, a pleasure seeing you again.”

Gabriel finally released Aziraphale, keeping an arm possessively around his waist. “Wish I could say the same,” he said with a smug smile. “Fortunately, the reunion will have to wait. I’ve gotta get back to work.”

He turned back to Aziraphale. “Love you,” he said, giving Aziraphale another kiss.

“Love you, too,” Aziraphale replied, flustered. Crowley tried not to sneer.

They both watched as Gabriel walked out and as the door closed, it left behind thick tension.

Aziraphale cleared his throat and adjusted his bowtie. “I’m very sorry about that. I didn’t know he was going to be coming by.”

“He was in a good mood,” Crowley said, bitterly.

“Yes, he was quite lovely today,” Aziraphale said, still a bit dazed, looking back over at the door and touching his lips briefly. “Um, I’m afraid he did take me out for a meal so I’ve already eaten.”

"Do you want me to go?” Crowley asked. It was interesting how fast a good mood could be dampened.

That seemed to snap Aziraphale out of it. “Oh, please, don’t, Crowley. We can still chat,” he said, hopefully.

Crowley tampered down the bad feelings to muster up a smile. “I’d be fine with a chat.”

“Good, I’d like to hear about everything new.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, playfully. “I just saw you, there’s not much.”

“I beg to differ.”

As Aziraphale relaxed into conversation, Crowley was still hung up on Gabriel. How could Aziraphale still enjoy that after everything he’s done? Crowley didn’t get it. And why hadn’t Gabriel done something about seeing Crowley? Why wasn’t Aziraphale worried? He decided to bring it up when he was leaving.

“Aziraphale? Is, uh- is Gabriel going to be upset? About seeing me?”

Aziraphale gave him an odd smile, reassuring but not happy. “Don’t worry about that, dear boy. It’s going to be fine.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer. Crowley got a bit closer, looking into Aziraphale’s eyes. “Are you going to be safe?”

It looked like Aziraphale wanted to say something but instead swallowed it. “He’d never hurt me,” Aziraphale said, confidently. 

“Call me, okay? If anything goes wrong.” He felt uncomfortable leaving after knowing he had potentially caused trouble. Aziraphale didn’t look an ounce worried but Crowley knew he could be very good at hiding. “Please?”

Aziraphale laughed lightly, nudging him toward the door. “You’re going to be late.”

He knew it’d be no use to protest but it didn’t stop the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Wanting to drive his point in, regardless, he hesitated for a second before pulling Aziraphale in for a hug. It was a first for them and it was definitely awkward for the first second before Aziraphale put his arms around him in return. Crowley held him tight before releasing him, trying to act casual about it. 

Aziraphale looked at him, eyes full of an emotion Crowley couldn’t describe, and took one of Crowley’s hands, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

****

Crowley stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed around midnight, thoughts too busy to sleep any sooner. His mind was filled with Aziraphale, something he had had to get used to, but tonight it was worse. Images of Gabriel and Aziraphale together were unpleasantly ingrained and adamant on making an appearance. Crowley had to wonder what he would feel like if Aziraphale was in a loving relationship. He felt justified with his jealousy now, but would he then? Anathema had asked him once if he’d really fuck Aziraphale while he was still dating someone else and even though he had tried to play up the bad boy vibe with her, he honestly didn't know. 

He had definitely helped people cheat in the past, ignoring wedding rings slipped into purses and pockets, but it was all with people who would lie up and down that they didn’t have anyone else. And none of it meant a damn thing to him. None of them meant a damn thing. Would he have someone that he cared about, though, while they were with someone else? Even someone as horrible as Gabriel? He didn’t have the answer. As much as he wanted Aziraphale, at this point he knew him too well. He knew nothing good could come out of having him while he was with Gabriel. As long as Gabriel was in the picture, he didn’t think he had much of a chance, no matter how much Aziraphale liked him. It hurt a bit to think about. 

They had never even talked about their sexual pasts with each other. Not that they had had any reason to. He didn’t know if Aziraphale would even want him then. He didn’t know him before they had met. Didn’t know that he had been intended to be a quick hook up. Didn’t know that Crowley had a reputation for shutting down any and all potential relationships. Would he want him then? Aziraphale was definitely too good for Gabriel but maybe he was too good for Crowley.

Crowley took a deep breath, begging his brain to shut the fuck up. He regretted his decision to not drink tonight. Lucky for him, sleep typically came easy. He focused on thinking about absolutely nothing, ignoring that nothing sort of came off like an Aziraphale that was absolutely happy to be with him no matter what.

Laying on his stomach, he held his pillow close and started drifting off. It wasn’t but a few minutes later before his phone started to ring, startling him. He rubbed at his eyes, frowning. The phone had quieted as soon as it had started ringing, he almost thought he had dreamt it. Groaning, he grabbed at it, squinting at the brightness. The screen informed him he had one missed call- and his heart lurched when he saw who it was from.

“Fuck.”

Crowley scrambled out of bed, redialing the number and grabbed the jeans he had discarded on the floor. Aziraphale’s phone rang out without being answered. There was a chance that it had been an accidental call but he was absolutely not going to take it. Almost falling over trying to get into his jeans as quick as possible, he tried the number again. Why couldn’t he be into baggy fashion? These damn things were painted on.

“Come on, answer, angel. Answer,” he said, out loud. His call wasn’t answered by the time he threw a shirt over his head and grabbed his keys. 

On the very quick drive to the bookshop, Crowley came to the awful realization that he didn’t know where Aziraphale actually lived. It had crossed his mind to ask before but he hadn’t had any interest in ever visiting due to Gabriel. Aziraphale always referred to the bookshop as ‘home’ anyways, it was easy to forget that he slept somewhere that could be who knows how far from here. Crowley was not the praying type but he found himself sending a silent prayer to whoever was listening that he would find Aziraphale there safe and sound in the bookshop or that he’d at least answer the bloody phone. The car sped up as Crowley’s phone informed him for the umpteenth time that he had reached Aziraphale’s voicemail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cranking out chapters at warp speed while the energy lasts! I didn't expect that big of a response for the last chapter but you guys never cease to flatter me. Also, a cliff hanger! Kinda sucks when I have the sort of updating schedule that hell would be proud of but I promise, it will continue.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s gone. It’s over,” Crowley said gently, running his hands through Aziraphale’s hair as he held him tighter. “I’m here now, angel.”

Crowley swerved, parking the car across from the bookshop, muttering under his breath that it was probably nothing. He was probably overreacting to a call that Aziraphale hadn’t even meant to make. He hoped it was nothing. The lights to the bookshop were on and he couldn’t decide if that was a good sign or a bad one, considering the time of night. Maybe Aziraphale fell asleep in the shop. Or if Gabriel had done anything, he went to the bookshop to get away from him and everything was alright. As much as Crowley wanted to believe this, he couldn’t shake the bad feeling in his chest.

The door was thankfully unlocked and Crowley swung it open, calling out Aziraphale’s name. There was no response. At first glance, nothing seemed out of sorts in the shop as he walked in. After taking a couple steps, something crunched underneath his shoe. He stopped and lifted his foot to investigate. Broken glass. Not a good sign. Crowley tried to stifle the rising panic.

“Aziraphale, are you in here,” Crowley called out, a little more desperately. More glass was left here and there, dark and jagged, leading a very incomplete trail that pointed toward the counter. Following it, Crowley looked over and found halves of two different wine bottles. As concerning as that already was, what was next to it was more so. Aziraphale’s phone was on the floor, bent at an angle, glass face shattered. Crowley’s heart lurched. What the fuck had happened? He bent down and clicked the lock button, not wanting to risk getting cut by picking it up. The phone glitched, but lit up, displaying what could barely be made out as notifications for many missed calls.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley yelled, louder, hitting his hand down on the counter, frustrated. “Where the blasted hell are you?”

A broken sound came from the back room and Crowley stood, running over so immediately he was barely aware he was moving. The room was dark and his hand frantically moved up the wall, trying to find the light switch. It only took a couple of seconds before the room was flooded with light but it had felt like an eternity. Everything about what he was currently seeing made no sense and he found himself frozen. Aziraphale was curled up in a ball on the ground, arms covering his head, protectively. The desk had been cleared of all of the paper that usually crowded it, everything swiped onto the floor that was littered with more broken wine bottles and books open and strewn about, some with pages torn out. Crowley took in the scene, trying to process it and slowly made his way over, nudging books aside so they wouldn’t get stepped on as he went. More glass crunched under his feet. He could hear Aziraphale whispering something but he couldn’t make out what it was. Crowley was just glad this meant he was conscious.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, softly. He crouched down next to him, not sure what to do. Hesitantly, he reached a hand out, placing it on Aziraphale’s shoulder just to withdraw it quickly when Aziraphale curled up tighter.

His whispers got louder and Crowley could make out a steady stream of ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ Crowley felt sick. It couldn’t have been that long since Gabriel had left. The phone call from Aziraphale had only been from around fifteen minutes ago. Maybe less.

“Aziraphale, please, it’s me,” Crowley said. Aziraphale still didn’t move. “Angel,” Crowley murmured, stroking Aziraphale’s hair, desperate to give some form of comfort. Aziraphale fell quiet. Slowly, he uncovered his face and looked up at Crowley, slightly unfocused. His face was wet with tears and his eyes were red from crying, having that same glazed over look from before. A small cut made an angry red line on Aziraphale’s cheek. Crowley could tell it wasn’t anything serious but that didn’t stop it from leaving a smear of blood to mingle with the tears and it sure as hell didn’t help the anger that was threatening to completely overwhelm Crowley. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes welled up and a sob escaped his mouth. 

“Angel, he’s gone,” Crowley said, not sure what he could say to comfort him. He sat down and hoisted Aziraphale up a bit to maneuver him so he would be sitting between Crowley’s legs. Crowley held him to his chest as Aziraphale’s crying intensified. “I’m here, angel, I’ve got you.” 

Aziraphale grabbed onto Crowley's shirt. Crowley didn't know how much time was passing with nothing but Aziraphale's crying and Crowley's soft words, and hushing. It was only a couple minutes at most but it felt like a very long time before Aziraphale finally started to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale cried, voice rough and muffled by Crowley’s shirt. “I’m sorry, I- I’m sorry.” 

Crowley could feel him trembling. He was glad Aziraphale couldn’t see the expression on his face. If he had wanted to murder Gabriel before, it was nothing compared to what he felt right now. 

“You need to go. You- you shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called, it was wrong, it- it was,” Aziraphale said, interrupted by another sob, holding onto Crowley’s shirt like he was afraid Crowley would disappear from under him.

“Look at me,” Crowley said, tilting Aziraphale’s head up. “You did the right thing. It was good that you called.” He ran his thumb over Aziraphale’s cheek, wiping away some of the tears. Aziraphale was breathing hard and fresh tears were still streaming down but he was looking at Crowley a bit more lucidly than he had before. Crowley continued stroking his cheek, keeping eye contact and Aziraphale leaned into it, sniffling. Crowley waited a bit for the tears to at least stop, just happy to be able to do something that was visibly comforting for Aziraphale. “What did he do to you, angel?”

Aziraphale shook his head.

“You’re bleeding.” Crowley was trying his hardest to not sound stern. 

“I got in the way,” Aziraphale hiccupped. “He didn’t mean to. I- I got in the way of the glass.”

Crowley’s thumb stopped, his mouth set in a hard line. “Aziraphale,” he said as calmly as he could. “Has this ever happened before?”

Aziraphale looked away, ashamed, and Crowley tilted his head again to make him look back. “Has he done this before.”

“He never hurts me,” Aziraphale said, quietly. “It’s never- He only has his… his outbursts at home. They're not- they're like this but he doesn’t hurt me. He’s never hurt me before. It was an accident.” 

Crowley didn’t trust himself enough to reply. His jaw clenched.

“It was my fault. I made you stay today.” Aziraphale’s breathing was picking up pace again. “I made you stay. He had been waiting outside. He knew. He knew and at home he was saying all these things and- and then he took me back here and found the wine and... I got scared.” His eyes were tearing up again. “He was so angry.” Aziraphale’s breath hitched. “It’s all my fault. I’m not supposed to drink and I’m not supposed to talk to you and I do anyway and I leave him no other choice. I push him to this.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m going to fucking strangle that bastard,” Crowley gritted out. “He can’t just-” He let out a frustrated breath. Aziraphale was already shaking his head, vigorously. “Aziraphale, I’ve gotta do something, you can’t let me do nothing about this. We’ve got to at least phone the police.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Crowley, no! Please, you can’t- I- I can’t- please, no, I’ll never forgive you,” he pleaded, hands tightening in Crowley’s shirt.

“Shh shh shh, okay, I'm not going to, I swear,” Crowley conceded and Aziraphale relaxed. “But if I see that fucker’s face I’m not gonna be responsible for my actions.” 

Crowley looked down at Aziraphale, taking in the puffy eyes and face blotched from all the crying. His bow tie was almost undone and there was a spot of blood on his sleeve. He looked exhausted. He was still leaning into Crowley's hand and as much as Crowley wanted to hurt Gabriel, his anger diminished slightly. His priority right now had to be helping Aziraphale.

“Angel, let me get you out of here,” Crowley said, softly, shifting a bit. “I’ll take you home with me. You’ll be safe there.”

Aziraphale looked like he wanted to say yes. “I can’t,” he said, strained. “I’m supposed to be here in the morning. I have to stay. He told me to."

“You don’t have to do anything," Crowley said. He couldn't think of leaving here for the night and it'd hardly do any good for him to stay and Gabriel to find them together. Things would either get worse for Aziraphale or Crowley would be hauled away for manslaughter. "You don't have to stay just because he said so. You don’t even have to see him again.” Crowley knew he was getting a bit ahead of himself but he couldn’t help it. He needed to take care of Aziraphale. It sounded so simple to him, just walking away from it. “You can stay with me and we’ll find a way to get your things and that’ll be it.” 

Aziraphale shook his head. All tears had stopped and his breathing had slowed down enough, only with the occasional hitch here and there. “You just… you don’t understand, Crowley.”

“Stay the night.” Crowley wasn’t going to give up without a fight. “I promise I’ll bring you back early. You name the time.”

Aziraphale stayed quiet, thinking it over.

“Please,” Crowley insisted. “I can’t let you sleep here.”

Hesitantly, Aziraphale nodded. 

“Come on, let’s get you up.” 

Aziraphale moved so Crowley could stand, using the couch as leverage to avoid the glass. He brushed himself off before using both hands to help Aziraphale up. Both were quick to find out that Aziraphale was unsteady on his feet, legs still shaky, and the debris they had to walk around wasn’t helping. Crowley held onto him as they slowly made their way out of the room. He didn’t fail to notice the way Aziraphale’s eyes lingered forlornly at the damaged books. Knowing there was nothing he could do right now to make that any better, Crowley gave him a reassuring squeeze on the arm, keeping him a bit closer.

*****

The car ride to Crowley’s flat was silent, as was the elevator ride. The only words spoken was when Aziraphale quietly informed Crowley what time he wanted to be dropped off. On the walk into the building, Crowley had reached over to hold Aziraphale’s hand, not entirely sure it would be welcomed, but Aziraphale held onto it like his life depended on it. He didn’t let go until Crowley closed the door to the flat.

Stepping ahead, Aziraphale looked around him at the sparse furnishings and Crowley realized how different it was compared to the clutter of the bookshop. The association made Aziraphale look bit out of place. It was odd having Aziraphale in his space for the first time, especially when it wasn't at all under the circumstances he had thought it would be.

“I, uh, don’t spend a lot of time here,” Crowley said, feeling an odd urge to justify.

“Gabriel doesn’t like having a lot of stuff around either.”

Crowley could hear the underlying ‘he doesn’t like having my stuff around.’

“S’not that I don’t _like_ having a lot of stuff around. Just never got around to… accumulating, I guess. I’ve been meaning to, though. Warm the place up a bit.” He walked over to where Aziraphale was standing and was surprised when Aziraphale reached out and grabbed his hand without looking over at him. He didn’t comment on it. “Come on, I’ll show you the bedroom.”

Maybe it was because Crowley didn't want to lose the contact of his hand being held or maybe he knew that Aziraphale needed it just a moment longer but they both stayed standing there for a few seconds longer before Crowley lightly tugged, pulling him in the right direction.

The bedroom stuck to the same aesthetic as the rest of the flat but looked more lived in. The bed especially, with a bit too many pillows than one person should need. He felt a little embarrassed about the dirty laundry on the ground but it didn’t look like Aziraphale had even noticed. Crowley led him to the bed and sat him down, their hands parting once more. 

“I’m gonna get you a plaster. I'm not a big fan of pyjamas so I don't have anything you can borrow but I guess you can, um, undress. If you’d like.”

“That’s alright. I can sleep in my clothes.”

Crowley nodded.

Aziraphale didn’t talk after that, letting Crowley tend to his cut before getting out of his shoes and taking off all of his upper body garments besides his shirt. It was odd seeing him without his waistcoat. He accepted a glass of water, gratefully. Before leaving, Crowley hesitated in the doorway, looking back at Aziraphale as he situated himself under the covers.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Crowley asked. "I can lay for a bit."

He really thought Aziraphale was going to say yes. It looked like he wanted to say yes and Crowley would have been more than happy to climb into the bed just to be near him and know he was okay. He swallowed the disappointment when Aziraphale silently shook his head and laid down on his side, curling up around a pillow. 

The hours dragged on. After finding himself at risk of falling asleep, Crowley brewed a pot of coffee and turned on the television. Nothing good was on, unsurprisingly. He flipped to a random channel and turned the volume on low, already knowing there was no way he would be able to concentrate. Yesterday had been a completely normal day. Today was going to be a completely normal day and then it all changed. None of this would've happened if Crowley didn't go over for lunch and it was weird to think about, that something so small could drastically change a day's events. He knew he wasn't actually responsible for anything that happened, that Gabriel would have probably found some excuse to do this at some point but that thought didn't help the bad taste in his mouth. Aziraphale was in his room, sleeping in his bed, and all he wanted to do was hold him and convince him to stay. But he couldn't. It wasn't fair. His brain wouldn't shut up with the constant questions. How long had Aziraphale been going through this alone? When did it get that bad? How often did it happen? If Gabriel was doing this and saying it was because of Crowley, when would it start to make Aziraphale resent him?

At 4 am, Crowley caved and went to check on him. He was sleeping soundly, which was not surprising. He had been looking basically half asleep since the moment he had gotten into the Bentley. Crowley couldn't remember the last time he had driven so carefully. Aziraphale looked peaceful like this, though. Hand gently holding onto the pillow, his face free of all expression, chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm. Crowley knelt down next to him and a feeling bloomed in his chest that he couldn’t name but the intensity of it almost hurt. Feeling a need to express it in any way possible, Crowley reached out and caressed Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale didn't stir. Impulsively, Crowley leaned forward and pressed a kiss near Aziraphale’s hairline. 

After letting himself look at Aziraphale for one more moment, Crowley got up and left to pour another cup of coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so so so sweet to me, thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter. Rereading them always gives me a little extra motivation to start on the next one. I really hope you guys enjoy this addition- not gonna lie, it took a bit out of me.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course I’m going to worry about you,” Crowley said, softly. “You’re my friend. And I can’t stand to see someone do this to you.”
> 
> “Please, take me back,” Aziraphale said, in a sad sort of way that he knew he couldn’t argue with.

Pale morning sunlight began to filter through the windows and Crowley checked the time on his phone. Deciding it was close enough to when he promised he’d wake up Aziraphale, he stretched and set about making breakfast. He didn’t know whether or not Aziraphale would be particularly hungry since it was so early so he figured it’d be easiest to stick to the staples, glad he had remembered to go grocery shopping the day before.

It felt a bit calming being in the kitchen. Food wasn’t his thing in general, he had always viewed it as a means to an end, but being around Aziraphale had made him appreciate it more. Not that he began to get particularly fancy while cooking but more along the lines of viewing it as something to bond over, a reason to get together. Break bread, if you will. And Crowley couldn’t really remember the last time he had made breakfast for someone else- probably some buddies who had crashed at his place after a night out- but he found himself paying way more attention to things even though they were so simple. How would Aziraphale like his toast? Should he wait to make it or guess? Would he prefer scrambled or fried eggs? Crowley tried to think back to the last time they had gone out for more of a brunch style meal and tossed on some American bacon for good measure. He was setting up a plate for Aziraphale when his phone alarm went off.

Crowley kept his footsteps light as he approached the sleeping form. Aziraphale looked just as peaceful as he had a couple hours before, not having moved much besides kicking off the top covers. Reaching out, Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Aziraphale,” he said, softly, giving him a light shake. 

Aziraphale made a small noise, not moving. Crowley wished he could let him rest, God knows he needed it, but he knew he couldn’t go back on his promise.

“Aziraphale, it’s time to get up.”

Aziraphale’s eyes scrunched before he opened them, blinking a couple times. He looked at his surroundings before looking up at Crowley, confused.

“Wha-? Oh,” Aziraphale said, eyes widening as he remembered the nights events and sitting up quick enough to startle Crowley. “Did I sleep in?”

“No no, you’re fine,” Crowley reassured. “We’ve still got time. Just thought you’d wanna properly wake up before going. I made breakfast.”

Aziraphale climbed out of the bed, still looking foggy with sleep and followed Crowley into the kitchen. He sat at one of the sleek barstools that lined the kitchen counter. Crowley slid him his plate and utensils.

“Not much, really, but it’ll get the job done,” Crowley said, half joking. He watched, waiting for Aziraphale to start eating but Aziraphale didn't do anything but look down at it. “Everything alright, angel?” It felt like a stupid question the moment it came out. Of course everything wasn’t alright. Was he playing it too casual? Should he be more comforting?

Aziraphale gave him a small, forced smile. “Yes, everything’s- everything’s quite alright. I’m going to pass on breakfast, though. I’m sorry you went through all this trouble.” 

“Oh. Yeah, no, that’s fine. It was no trouble. Don’t worry about that,” Crowley said, trying to mask his disappointment. He was about to take the plate back when he hesitated. “You sure you don’t want just a couple bites? I don’t want you to get hungry.”

Aziraphale shook his head and Crowley realized he looked like he was going to cry.

“I’m… I’m not gonna push it on you,” he said, not too sure what to say or do. It felt different without a chaotic environment. Different with the quiet emotions. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to touch or to comfort properly- that Aziraphale wouldn’t want that. 

“I know,” Aziraphale replied, quietly.

Crowley didn’t know how to respond.

“I’d like to go now, if you don’t mind.”

“‘Course.”

Aziraphale got up and began to head back to the bedroom to get the rest of his things. 

“You don’t have to go back,” Crowley blurted out. 

Aziraphale turned to look back at him. “I want to go back,” he said, adamantly. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Crowley gave him an incredulous look. It was possibly the most ridiculous thing Aziraphale could have said.

“He trashed your bookshop for fuck’s sake!” Crowley yelled, immediately feeling like shit when Aziraphale flinched. Crowley didn’t feel bad about the words, though. He had unholy amounts of caffeine in his system, had gotten no sleep, and it was absolute bullshit that he was about to be an accomplice to handing Aziraphale back over to Gabriel. 

“Of course I’m going to worry about you,” Crowley said, softly. “You’re my friend. And I can’t stand to see someone do this to you.”

“Please, take me back,” Aziraphale said, in a sad sort of way that he knew he couldn’t argue with.

Crowley didn’t understand. He didn’t get why Aziraphale would willingly be walking back into this. He wanted to say no. Insist. But instead, he nodded and bit his tongue, watching Aziraphale resume his walk to the bedroom.

******

The way back over was painfully quiet. It didn’t help that Aziraphale was putting as much space between them as possible, barely looking at Crowley the entire time. He longed to reach out and grab his hand again. Tell him that everything was going to be okay because he was gonna figure out a way to make it better. He did neither. When they arrived, Aziraphale didn’t make a move to get out, looking out the window at his name in large letters in silence. Crowley cleared his throat.

“I can… I can stop by later. Help clean things up. Maybe even bring Anathema along, go someplace nice after,” Crowley offered.

“Best not,” Aziraphale murmured. He looked at Crowley’s hand, still on the steering wheel, before glancing at his face. “Do get some rest today, dear boy.”

Before Crowley could answer, Aziraphale opened the car door and got out, closing it just as quickly. Crowley watched him go into the store. He waited a minute before driving away. 

Not really processing what he was doing, Crowley found himself parking only a few minutes away from the shop and getting out. He had to know. He had to make sure that Gabriel wasn’t going to go back in there and hurt Aziraphale or start destroying more shit. He ducked into a café across the street from the shop, ordering a croissant and a decaf tea, seating himself at the table by the window. And he waited.

A half hour passed. Crowley dawdled, picking at the croissant, sipping at his tea as slow as he could. Finally, he spotted Gabriel. He hated how normal he looked. Handsome, well dressed. Walking like it was just an average day after an average night and he was an average man visiting his boyfriend averagely. Crowley slipped out of the café when Gabriel disappeared inside the shop. Looking at them through the windows, and staying out of sight, he could see Aziraphale come into view and say something, wringing his hands before putting them behind his back. Gabriel looked like he was saying something now and approached Aziraphale. He cradled Aziraphale’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead, a bastardization of the gentle kiss Crowley had put there just a few hours ago.

Everything about it made Crowley’s blood boil but there was nothing he could do. It looked like it was going to be safe for the time being. He had no reason to burst in heroically. Aziraphale would probably never talk to him again if he walked in just to tell Gabriel off.

Gabriel hugged Aziraphale who looked like he hesitated before hugging back almost desperately. Crowley took that as his cue to leave. 

It was almost time to go to work and he couldn’t decide if he should go in or take the day off to sleep. He didn’t really think he _could_ sleep at this point. It was probably better to go in and do absolutely nothing than be jittery at home where he was free to get lost in his thoughts. Maybe he’d take the day off tomorrow to catch up on rest. Having decided, he headed home to get dressed. 

The cold breakfast on his kitchen counter was disposed of quickly.

*****

“You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks,” Crowley said, flatly, putting his sunglasses on as he brushed past Anathema.

She followed him as he made his way through the hallway.

“Long night?” She asked, dodging a woman carrying a stack of folders.

“That’s an understatement.” He made a sharp turn down another hall, hoping she’d leave it at that. The last thing he wanted to do was talk. Hell, he didn’t even want to think. 

“Aziraphale related?”

He didn’t respond. Anathema seemed to take that as a yes. Reasonably, he supposed.

“Well? What happened?” She was keeping up with his long strides annoyingly well.

“Not now, Device,” Crowley said, sharply. He was pleased when he finally walked down the right hallway. She kept up until he went into the men’s room, giving her a smug look as the door shut behind him. 

The lighting in the bathroom was awful and he made the mistake of looking in the mirror. He did look a bit more disheveled than usual since he had to rush to be on time. Taking his sunglasses off, he grimaced at the dark circles. He didn’t pull all-nighters very often. He liked his sleep. Loved it, actually. Big fan. It wasn’t called beauty sleep for nothing. Leaning on the sink, last night’s events ran through his head. The glass. The phone. Fuck, he couldn’t even call to make sure thing’s were okay. Aziraphale had looked so small laying there on the ground, whispering apologies. Crowley’s brain involuntarily conjured up scenes. Did Gabriel keep that arrogant composure when he was mad or did his perfectly put-together appearance disappear? Crowley could see him red in the face, yelling. The sound of wine bottles breaking. Shards flying, nicking Aziraphale in the process. Gabriel grabbing books off shelves and tearing them up in front of Aziraphale, just to see him hurt. Just to show that he could. 

Crowley turned on the faucet, letting the water run for a few seconds before splashing some onto his face. It usually felt good when he was hungover and he almost felt hungover right now, all the adrenaline gone from his system. He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser next to him and dried himself off. How could someone be so cruel? Who can do that to someone else and still go on about their day? To Aziraphale, of all people. Aziraphale with his bright eyes and his excited wiggle when he was about to eat one of his many favorite foods. 

Anathema had to have taken the hint by now. Crowley knew he had his days where he didn’t actually mind being badgered, just enjoyed the dramatics before talking about things but this was not one of them. Today he needed to be left alone.

Opening the door, he was relieved to see that she was gone. He made his way back to his office, closing the door behind him, wondering how the hell he was going to make this day at least somewhat productive. He decided to tackle the mind numbing paperwork that he usual hated. Crowley liked being challenged but today, even though his body was begging to do something physically exhausting, his brain was trying to sleep on the job. It was easier to just finish the shit he didn’t need to put any thought into.

At some point before lunch, even though he already had a feeling about what the outcome would be, he phoned the bookshop. As Aziraphale’s mobile had done a bit over 12 hours ago, the bookshop landline rang out with out being answered. Crowley decided he wasn’t in the mood to go out for food and resigned to the cafeteria attached to the center. 

When he got home that night, he preemptively sent an email notifying that he wouldn’t be coming into work the next day. He went through his usual routines. A quick dinner with a hot shower after it, though he did spend a little longer than usual under the hot water. 

It felt almost heavenly crawling into bed. The sheets were cool on his warm skin and he could feel exhaustion weighing him down, like he was sinking into the mattress. He was surprised when he grabbed his pillow and the scent of Aziraphale’s cologne greeted him. He had almost forgotten that he had been sleeping on Crowley's usual side.

The feeling that had taken over him when he caressed Aziraphale’s face came back in full force, a tight grip in his chest. He hoped Aziraphale was okay. That he had had a lovely dinner, was treated kindly, and was now also in bed, comfortable and falling asleep easily. Crowley erased Gabriel from the picture in these imaginings. He held the pillow close and inhaled, taking in the scent, eyes closed. It wasn’t the first time he had thought about Aziraphale sleeping in the same bed as him- far from it- but it was different now that he could smell him. He couldn’t tell if it eased the yearning or increased it but either way he didn’t care.

As he drifted off, the one question on his mind was whether or not Aziraphale was thinking of him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned into a bit of a Crowley Interlude, calming down from all the previous happenings. I hope you enjoy! Also, I absolutely loved reading through your comments on the last chapter, it's always so good to hear that you guys are invested.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aziraphale,” Crowley called out. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face when Aziraphale popped out from the back room with an armful of books. He was okay. Physically, he looked okay. Everything was alright. “There you are, angel.”

It was after noon when Crowley woke up. He stayed in bed for a few minutes without moving, thinking things over. After debating, he grabbed his phone and called the bookshop. 

No answer. 

It was possible that Aziraphale was out for lunch currently but he had a feeling Gabriel had him not open the shop again. Crowley sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the bed. A very large part of him wanted to eat and then lay back down and sleep for the rest of the day. 

He got ready at a leisurely pace. Needing to get out of his own head, he texted a couple of his friends to see how they were doing. A few replied, entertaining him for an hour before he decided it was starting to bother him and wanted to drive by the bookshop just in case. Closed. Even though he had expected it, he felt angry all over again. He should’ve tried harder to get Aziraphale to stay with him yesterday. Should’ve had the police come. Should’ve just gone and barged in when he had the chance to beat the shit out of Gabriel. Crowley hit his steering wheel in frustration before driving away.

Not having any way to find out if Aziraphale was doing okay felt like torture. 

****

He avoided everyone at work the day after, keeping to himself and trying to keep himself busy. Counting down the minutes until it would be appropriate to go on a lunch break. He couldn’t get out of the building fast enough when it was finally time.

The relief that filled him when he saw the bookshop open was indescribable. It took all of his restraint to not burst in there dramatically. He had to be cool. Stay calm and collected. It wouldn’t do any good having a freak out. He walked into the store with his typical saunter, scanning it for the familiar fluff of blonde. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley called out. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face when Aziraphale popped out from the back room with an armful of books. He was okay. Physically, he looked okay. Everything was alright. “There you are, angel.”

Aziraphale looked surprised to see him, giving him a nervous smile in return. “Crowley! I, uh, I didn’t expect to see you today, dear boy.”

“‘Course. I came by yesterday but you weren’t in.” Crowley stepped out of the way as Aziraphale passed by to get at the bookshelf behind him. “Is it a bad time?”

“No, no, just... um.” Aziraphale paused, back turned to Crowley as he put a book in an empty spot. “Finishing some cleaning up,” he said, in a tone that was definitely trying to pretend they both didn’t know what from.

“Need any help?”

“I’m just about done, thank you.”

“Right.” Crowley shifted, hands in pockets. “Well, you up for a break? We could pop out for a...” Aziraphale had turned around and Crowley eyes fixated on the very visible hickey hovering above his collar, “...bite.” 

Aziraphale gave him an odd look before he seemed to realize what Crowley was looking at. He made a move to cover the mark but thought better of it, abortively putting his hand down.

“We made up.” Aziraphale tried his best not to look embarrassed saying it but failed.

“I can see that,” Crowley said, grimacing. He really hoped it was only the product of some heavy kissing. Gabriel thinking it was alright to have Aziraphale in the biblical sense after all that was, quite frankly, repulsive.

Aziraphale frowned at him. “There’s no need to be judgmental. We are adults, you know.”

“I’m very aware of that but only one of you acts like it,” Crowley said, unable to help his tone. Aziraphale cast his eyes down, looking like he had just been reprimanded and Crowley stared at him, baffled. “Not you! I’m talking about Mr. Temper Tantrum.”

“Crowley, please.”

“What? I’m only telling it how it is.”

“No, you’re being very impolite.”

“Impolite,” Crowley said, incredulously. “He left you a crying mess in the middle of the floor after tearing his way through here like a fuckin’ tornado and I’m being impolite calling him out on it? It’s not right! It's ridiculous is what it is. And what? He left you to clean up his mess too?”

Aziraphale had begun wringing his hands, uncomfortably. “Please, will you drop the subject. I’m not discussing this with you.”

Crowley almost wished he could drop it but now that he was talking, he couldn’t stop. He hadn’t told anyone about that night, not even Anathema and it was like everything he had been thinking for the past two days was threatening to spill out. “No. I can’t stand to think that you’ve been living like this for who knows how long. That’s not… that’s not how things are supposed to go, you have to see that.”

“He loves me,” Aziraphale said, insistently.

“He doesn’t love you!” 

Aziraphale looked like he wanted to respond but couldn’t find the words.

“He doesn’t love you, no one who loves you can treat you like this, angel,” Crowley said, desperately hoping it would stick.

“That’s not true. He’s trying to help.”

“Come on, Aziraphale. Open your eyes! You should know better than this! You’re one of the smartest people I know, I don’t understand why you’re being so stupid!” It ended up sounding harsher than he had expected. He winced.

Aziraphale had a wounded expression, like he had been slapped. “I forgive you,” he said weakly.

Crowley threw his hands up, exasperated. “Don’t forgive me! Get mad! You have the right to get mad! Tell me to fuck off if that’s how you really feel! You don’t have to stand there and take anyone’s fucking bullshit if you don’t want to, don’t you get it?”

He hadn’t realized how loud he had gotten until his words were met with stunned silence from Aziraphale. There was nothing Crowley could think to say, either. His breathing was a bit heavier than usual from the rant and the two looked at each, trying to figure out where to go from there.

“I, um,” Aziraphale said, quietly. “I think you should go.”

It stung. Crowley sighed, closing his eyes. He wished he could’ve just shut the hell up and taken Aziraphale out for lunch, like usual. He hadn’t wanted to add to Aziraphale’s stress, he had wanted to show that he was here for him. That that wasn’t how love looked. He wanted to show Aziraphale what he really deserved that didn’t involve trained obedience and fear of retaliation for harmless enjoyments. 

“Right,” Crowley said, calmly. As much as he didn’t want to, he needed to show that any boundary Aziraphale put up would be respected. Just sucked that it was against him. 

“Crowley, I’m... I’m not sure I should be spending time with you anymore,” Aziraphale said, in a tone that was dangerously serious. 

Crowley searched his face, trying to decide if this was just in fear of Gabriel or something he genuinely wanted. He wanted to say it definitely leaned more toward the former but either way there was not much Crowley could do about it. Even though Crowley understood- to the extent he possibly could- the situation Aziraphale was in, being turned away in favor of Gabriel felt like a bit of a sucker punch. 

“I’ll be on my way then.” Crowley put his sunglasses on, giving Aziraphale a vague nod. He could feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him as he walked out. "See you around, angel,” Crowley called out behind him before the door shut.

He technically still could go out since he was on a lunch break, he had found his appetite had up and left him. He got into his car, deciding to just head back to work, closing the door a bit too rough. The engine came to life and Crowley ran a hand over his face. God, he really fucked that one up. 

*****

Most of Crowley’s paperwork was done and sitting had been bothering him so he had moved to the open lounge to utilize the couch. He had been laying rather comfortably for an hour or so, amusing himself by tossing an apple up and down, when he heard someone clear their throat. Anathema was looking down at him.

“So you’re the reason everyone’s been avoiding getting sodas from the vending machines,” she said, taking a chair from the nearest table to sit by him.

“S’not my fault. Not like I’m guarding the place,” Crowley grumbled. He caught the apple one last time and lowered his sunglasses to peak over at her. “And what do you want?”

Anathema smoothed her dress. “Well, I... I wanted to thank you. I saw the notes on your last evaluation. It’s a really big compliment to get that kind of review from someone at the top of their field, so. Thank you.”

Crowley tossed her the apple without warning and she managed to catch it before it hit the ground. He pushed his sunglasses back into place.

“I don’t want your thanks,” he said, sharply. “I don’t give out compliments. The work’s good or it’s not, I just state facts.” 

Anathema tried to keep her expression neutral, a smile threatening to break through. “Of course.”

Crowley crossed his arms and Anathema took a bite out of the apple. They stayed like that for a while. Crowley kept expecting her to get up and walk away, maybe think that he had fallen asleep, but she seemed content to just sit with him. The company was nice, Crowley had to admit. As was the silence, apart from the occasional crunch of the apple. Finally, though, he got bored.

“I was thinking I could get a nice chaise longue in my office,” Crowley commented, making a sweeping motion with his hand.

Anathema huffed a laugh. “That’s probably the worst idea.”

“What? Why?”

“You’d never leave. Or you’d sleep all day.” She wiped at her mouth.

Crowley made a noncommittal noise. He stayed quiet for another minute. There was a lot on his mind but he couldn’t tell if he actually wanted to put it out into the world. He felt weird and guilty about his earlier confrontation with Aziraphale and weird and guilty about not doing anything about Gabriel and just weird in general when he thought about Aziraphale, like his stomach was getting tied up in knots and it was all too much for him.

“Anathema,” Crowley said, hesitating a bit.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Anathema crossed her legs. “Is it gonna be about whatever’s making everyone stay five feet away from you at all times?”

“Five feet away,” Crowley mimicked. “God, you’re so American.”

After a beat of silence, Crowley glanced over. She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, fine, it’s about that.”

Anathema gestured for him to continue. Crowley tried to think of where to start. 

“I...” Maybe Gabriel being the biggest prick to ever roam the planet. Maybe the fear he felt seeing Aziraphale in such bad shape. How right it felt to see Aziraphale in his bed. “I think I’m in love.”

Crowley froze. That was absolutely not what he had wanted to say. It almost sounded like someone else had said it to his own ears. He felt his face heat up. After a few seconds of Anathema not responding, Crowley chanced a glance at her. She was looking at him with wide eyes and a soft expression.

“You stop that,” Crowley said, scowling.

“Crowley...”

“Don’t. Say. A word.”

Anathema failed to suppress her smile but shook her head. “I’m not going to. I swear.” She didn’t last half a minute. “Are you going to tell him?”

Crowley snorted. “Yeah. Fat lotta good that’d do. He told me he didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“What happened?”

“I said... some things,” Crowley said, sighing. He saw Anathema frown and waved his hand. “Not anything bad just. Things he didn’t want to hear, I guess.”

“Like...?” Anathema prompted after he didn’t clarify.

Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose. This was more difficult to get out than he had thought it’d be. “It’s, er. Well, with Gabriel. He’s... it’s physical.”

“I don’t think I followed that,” Anathema said.

“The, uh,” Crowley swallowed thickly, “abuse. It’s physical.”

Anathema took in the new information, expression quickly sobering from Crowley’s admission. “Is he okay? Is he hurt?”

“He’s fine now. As fine as he can be, I guess. He had a small cut but other than that unscathed. Bookshop was a bit of a mess, though, I know some books were ruined.” Crowley frowned, thinking about it. “He was so scared,” he said, quietly. “I took him home with me so he’d have somewhere comfortable to sleep that night. Couldn’t call him to check up after I dropped him off because Gabriel smashed his mobile. And I went over today and all I wanted was to try to make him feel better, but.” Crowley pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his neck. “It kinda... went down like a lead balloon. He won’t leave him, I don’t understand why he won’t leave him. He said that that was just something Gabriel does sometimes like it was this normal thing and now he doesn’t want to fuckin’ see me.”

“Well, you can’t just not see him,” Anathema said, distressed.

“It’s not like I don’t want to! I don’t think I’d be able to handle not seeing him, I just don’t want him to hate me if I keep showing up. I don’t want to make his life worse.”

Anathema reached out and put her hand on his, briefly, giving him a reassuring smile. “I promise he’s not going to hate you for showing him that you’re always going to be there. Also, you say the word and I will kick Gabriel’s ass.”

Crowley thought about it. “Thas’ not a bad idea, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the feedback, I absolutely loved reading through it all! Updates might be getting a bit more sporadic due to inktober but they will still happen eventually. Hope you guys like the new chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If asked, Crowley would say he was completely confident as he walked through the bookshop’s doors. Crowley is a liar.

There were few things Crowley was willing to dedicate himself to and when he did, it was all or nothing- and Aziraphale certainly was not nothing. 

The first step was to give Aziraphale some space. Crowley wasn’t sure what the step after that was. Or any other step, for that matter. It was all a bit fuzzy but he’d be damned if he didn’t figure this all out because he was not about to let Gabriel win in the slightest. Aziraphale was worth fighting for, whether or not he ended up with Crowley. Was this what being in love was like? 

It was an agonizing week before he decided Aziraphale had to have reconsidered the ‘no seeing each other’ thing and in the meantime, he had decided he was going to do things as gently as possible to get his point across. A way that Aziraphale could feel comfortable with, like maybe a slice of chocolate cake and a “Hey, you should let me help you get away from your abusive boyfriend and also I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to hold your hand.” He'd probably have to plan out the exact wording.

Crowley looked himself over in the mirror, smoothing over a piece of hair that really didn’t need to be fixed at all. He was going to keep his head this time around. There were only so many times Aziraphale could push him away before he meant it once and for all and Crowley really couldn’t risk that.

Before leaving his flat, Crowley stopped in the room where he kept his plants. He picked up a small one, vibrantly green in a white pot, that he had been tending to for a few months. If things were different, he’d be showing up to the bookshop with a bouquet and a part of him still wanted to. Maybe not something like roses, which would be extremely apparent, but something different. Like yellow acacias or gardenias. He was afraid that’d still be too grand of a gesture. A plant was subtle, though. Subtle and personal.

*******

If asked, Crowley would say he was completely confident as he walked through the bookshop’s doors. Crowley is a liar. He pushed through, holding on to the little plant like a lifeline, trying to calm his nerves when he was immediately face to face with Aziraphale, who was standing behind the counter. Aziraphale’s face went through a series of emotions in the matter of seconds, starting with relieved and settling on something more conflicted.

“Listen, angel, before you say anything- I’m sorry,” Crowley said.

The lone customer who had been busy browsing looked between the two men and, feeling a very private moment about to happen, slowly made his way out of the store. 

“I shouldn’t’ve acted out like that. I understand if you still don’t want to see me but I’d really like to take you out today. And I brought you this.” Crowley set the plant down in front of Aziraphale, feeling a little anxious about his reaction both to the apology and the gift. He didn’t have much experience in apologizing but those sounded like the right words to say and he did mean it so that must count for something.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, softly, gazing at the plant. He brought up a hand to tenderly stroke one of the leaves. “It’s beautiful.” He looked up at Crowley and bit his lip. “I... I’m not sure...”

“Even if you tell me to get out of here right now, it’s yours,” Crowley interjected. “It's for you.” He felt his face heat up a bit.

Aziraphale looked a bit overwhelmed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll go to lunch with me?” Crowley hoped the mantra of _please please please please please_ going on his head wasn’t too obvious. He also hoped it was.

There was a long enough moment where Aziraphale stayed quiet, considering the offer, that Crowley thought he was going to say no.

“I’ll go,” Aziraphale finally said. “There will be no discussion of my relationship, though. Agreed?”

Crowley wanted to protest. A discussion about Aziraphale’s relationship was why he was here. He wasn’t about to pass up time along with Aziraphale to openly contest it, though.

“Fine. Maybe,” he mumbled. Aziraphale shot him a look that was more fond than the warning it was supposed to be.

****

After how hectic everything had been, it really was nice to just have a normal moment to themselves, both men clinging to the pleasure of being able to relax and talk and joke. It almost felt like how it had been before Crowley became aware of Aziraphale’s circumstances. It also felt like London as a whole conspired to give the two a break. The weather was agreeable, as were the crowds, and there was a table open at one of Aziraphale’s favorite restaurants with no waiting time. 

They fell back into their old patterns. Aziraphale even got Crowley to try something new off the menu, Crowley agreeing just to see Aziraphale get all smug and pleased at “winning” their farce of a quarrel. It felt like forever since Crowley had had the pleasure of watching Aziraphale eat. From start to finish, it was a treat- watching Aziraphale’s eyes go wide as the food was set in front of him, always earnestly thanking the server before beginning to assemble the perfect first bite, him closing his eyes as he savored the flavor and, as always, Crowley very much appreciated the noises that came out of a good meal.

Today’s dish involved gnocchi in some kind of white sauce. Crowley had missed this so much he barely looked at his own meal, eating it mechanically though he did admit it tasted very good, to watch Aziraphale meticulously make his way through the dish, dabbing at his mouth after almost every bite even though it wasn’t needed. 

After lunch, not wanting the pleasant visit to come to an end, Crowley suggested a walk in St. James, which Aziraphale readily agreed to. Crowley knew Aziraphale had missed this just as much as Crowley had. They strolled at an easy pace, Crowley buying ice cream for the both of them, and Aziraphale talking excitedly about how a very old book about magic and illusions had found its way into the shop. He proudly announced he had been trying his hand at a few of the tricks it explained and insisted he show Crowley sometime, definitely loving the grimace that it caused. 

Being with Aziraphale looking so bright and happy felt like seeing the sun after a long storm. Crowley knew he had an obligation to say something about said storm. Eventually, they found themselves in front of the bookshop. Aziraphale had stopped in a way that reminded Crowley of those cheesy romance films, looking up at him as if to say “well, this is me” with a shy, expectant smile. His hair was being lit in that specific, ethereal way reminiscent of their first meeting. Crowley had taken a step forward, without even realizing, drawn to him like a magnet. He didn’t want Aziraphale to go inside. Say goodbye. Go home to someone else. Not when he looked so tempting standing there, cheeks pink from laughter.

“Thank you for the outing, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “It was much needed.”

“Any time, angel,” Crowley said, trying to figure out if Aziraphale had gotten closer. “Day or night, I’m yours.”

It definitely wasn’t his imagination when Aziraphale’s eyes flickered down to Crowley’s lips. Crowley couldn’t tell if he regretted taking off his sunglasses earlier or not because he certainly wasn’t trying to hide it as he watched Aziraphale wet his own. The air felt stifling as Aziraphale wavered a little, leaning forward by an inch. It’d be so easy to move that little bit more and finally know what he tasted like. Crowley’s hands twitched at his sides, wanting nothing more than to pull him close.

The echo of Aziraphale in his shop, guilt-ridden, quietly asking if it counted as cheating made its way into Crowley’s head. The self-deprecating smiles and the admissions of not being a good boyfriend. Of not being good.

Crowley couldn’t do it.

He took one of Aziraphale’s hands and Aziraphale watched curiously as Crowley brought it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it, looking up at Aziraphale intently. When Crowley released it, Aziraphale blushed and held the hand like it was something delicate.

“I can help you if you let me,” Crowley said. “I... I really do care about you.”

Aziraphale gave him a bittersweet smile. “Thank you.”

“Oh! Here, wait a sec.” Crowley rummaged in his pocked and pulled out a small, rumpled piece of paper, handing it over. “S’got my address on it. You know. Just in case. Or if you wanna figure out how we can... I don’t know. Fix things, I guess.” Crowley stuck his hands in his pocket and shrugged. “Like I said. Day or night. You know my work schedule.”

Aziraphale was suddenly much closer than he was before. It was Crowley’s turn to blush bright red as Aziraphale lightly turned his head to the side and kissed his cheek, lingering a second too long. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale repeated, still mildly bittersweet but looking rather pleased at the reaction he had caused.

Crowley nodded, unable to come up with words, and watched Aziraphale go into the bookshop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is on the shorter side but I'm clawing myself out of writer's block. I really hope you like it! I loved loved loved the comments on the last chapter they were so sweet and fun. You guys are fantastic.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley stood up and stretched before laying down on the couch, legs spread to make room for Aziraphale, and motioned him over. A part of him couldn’t help but feel like with the back room’s low, warm light, a mood was being set.

Crowley wore Aziraphale’s kiss like an accessory that he never intended to take off. He knew other people couldn’t see it but _he_ could still feel it and that’s all that mattered. He felt it at work, he felt it on his drive home, he felt it when he was laying in bed, alone. It was something so miniscule in the scheme of things but it felt huge and important and just for him. 

Even though he replayed it over again, it didn’t last until his next meeting with Aziraphale. His sensory memory was only as good as anyone else’s and it felt more like a ghost of a memory. It was hard not to ask Aziraphale to renew it. He absolutely could not imagine himself asking right out and if he wanted to be cheeky about it, asking with a smirk and a tap on the spot wear the kiss had worn away, it would get him a playful swat on the shoulder at best.

Instead, he sat across from Aziraphale at a table for two, trying hard not to smile as Aziraphale went off on a rant about Gabriel’s coworkers. Crowley didn’t think he had ever seen him this heated sober. 

“And their idea of an inside joke is referencing The Sound of Music,” Aziraphale lamented, spoon full of soup partway to his mouth.

Crowley tsked in sympathy. 

“Actually, I don’t even think you can call it an inside joke. They just… c_ommunicate_ that way.” Aziraphale nodded earnestly, like it was something he had to convince to Crowley was true, before finally consuming the bit of appetizer. 

“They didn’t sound like a particularly fun bunch before but that certainly takes the proverbial cake,” Crowley said, unable to stop his amusement from seeping through.

“You’re teasing.”

“I swear m’not,” Crowley said, raising his eybrows, making what he hoped was a sincere face.

Aziraphale pouted anyways.

“I just don’t think I’ve ever seen anything get your feathers ruffled like this before.”

“Those dinners are absolute torture,” Aziraphale said. “I don’t even know why I have to go. I can tell that none of them really like me, they don’t even talk to me.”

Crowley remembered all too well the ‘speak when spoken to’ rule Gabriel seemed to have with Aziraphale and couldn’t imagine how miserable it must be to sit with people you don’t like, silently and politely, for an indeterminate amount of time. Gabriel probably wouldn’t let him eat much, either. The most surprising thing was how frank Aziraphale was talking about this. An open displeasure for how he was being treated. It almost sounded like a roundabout way to let out some of his frustrations with Gabriel, like a guilt-free loophole.

“It would be a smidge tolerable if I was at least able to have a glass of wine with it all,” Aziraphale continued. 

“Sounds like you’d rather a bottle,” Crowley said, trying to figure out whether Aziraphale wanted to keep the current mood or genuinely vent.

“Certainly would help. Though, in practice, probably not a good idea. I can’t even imagine what would slip out.” 

The two of them paused, considering. Crowley didn’t know what scene was playing out in Aziraphale’s head but he was amusing himself picturing it going down like a scene from Real Housewives. Not that Crowley watched any of those shows, of course. Well, intentionally watched. Aziraphale tossing wine onto some stuffy suit would be something Crowley would pay to see. In a perfect world, it’d end with Aziraphale dumping the rest of a bottle over Gabriel’s head.

“Not a good idea at all,” Aziraphale said, breaking Crowley out of that thought. “I swear, they all act like they’re waiting for me to make a mistake. First time I met any of them I really had been so excited but any attempt I made at socializing they treated like a faux pas.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Crowley said, taking a bite of a bread roll with a bit more hostility than expected. Where did these people get off treating other humans like that? Crowley didn’t even have to meet them to know Aziraphale was better than any one of them. “Don’t let them get to your head, angel, people like that just have an overblown superiority complex. They try to stub out anyone and anything that doesn’t conform to their ridiculous rules and expectations. Not a spark of originality allowed.”

“Lots of experience with that, then?” Aziraphale asked, lightly.

Crowley snorted. “You can say that again.”

Aziraphale raised a questioning eyebrow and Crowley shook his head.

“Family stuff. Long story.” Last thing Crowley wanted was getting into that mess. “Is there any way you can skip out on the dinner? Emergency book delivery? The queen is in dire need of a signed first edition of some Keats?”

Aziraphale cracked a smile at that.

“I’m afraid, it’s quite impossible to miss. It’s very important to Gabriel I attend.”

Crowley would groan if he didn’t think it’d offend Aziraphale. He knew saying anything bad about Gabriel was asking for trouble, the soreness of the topic almost palpable, but it felt uncomfortable not having any insight as to how things had been between the couple. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, uh… How are things going?” He tried to ask nonchalantly.

Before Aziraphale could answer, a waiter stopped by their table, clearing it of Aziraphale’s bowl to set down their entrees. Aziraphale thanked him and looked the dish over.

“Doesn’t this look wonderful? I wasn’t sure I made the right choice ordering something I’ve already tried before here but, really, it’s very hard to find eggplant parmesan this good in the city. I think it has to do with consistency.” Aziraphale was directing all focus onto his meal in what he probably thought was a very clever and convincing change of subject.

Crowley let him get away with it for the first couple bites, finding no reason to deprive himself of the view but the evasion wasn’t doing anything to help his anxiety over it all.

“So?” Crowley asked.

“It’s just as good as last time,” Aziraphale said, pleased.

“No, not about the food. About things. With Gabriel.”

“Oh, yes. That.” Aziraphale dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “He’s been very… attentive.”

Crowley tried to keep his air of indifference. 

“How so?”

“Hovering, mostly. Very involved. Of course, I’m not complaining, it’s all very sweet of him to be so concerned about my everyday goings-on.”

“Any other,” Crowley stopped, trying to find an easy way to put it, “mishaps?”

Aziraphale was showing the early signs of discomfort and Crowley knew whatever the answer was, he’d have to leave it at that if he wanted to continue things as they were. He waited as Aziraphale took another bite of his meal.

“Minor ones on my part, perhaps, but nothing more,” Aziraphale said, in a tone that offered no room for argument.

Crowley didn’t bother commenting on that, opting to hum in response. It hurt that Aziraphale still talked to him about Gabriel like he didn’t know about what was going on.

The conversation quickly found its way over to safer subjects like rude customers and coworkers.

When he dropped Aziraphale off at the shop, Crowley wavered a bit, waiting. Waiting for what, he didn’t know. Or at least, he had some idea but knew nothing along those lines would actually happen. 

“So,” Crowley said, before Aziraphale could get to the door. Prolonging their meetings even in the slightest bit was always a good thing. “I was thinking, maybe I bring ‘round Anathema next time? She’s been bothering me about meeting you again. Think it’d be nice.”

“Oh, that’d be lovely! Should I bring Newton?” 

Crowley tried to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to hurt Aziraphale’s feelings. Really, the Newt kid didn’t seem like a bad person and it wasn’t his fault that Crowley was picky when it came to people. It also wasn’t his fault that he had inadvertently gotten on Crowley’s bad side. That didn’t make either of those things untrue, though.

“Er- I guess if you want to,” Crowley said with a shrug.

Aziraphale looked amused.

“I do want to. And you have to promise to be nice.”

“Reputation, angel.” Crowley really thought he hadn’t let on his disdain for the boy. He adjusted his sunglasses, deciding he may as well take advantage of it being out there. “I’ll do no such thing.”

“Ah. Of course not,” Aziraphale said. Something about the way he smiled, looking happy to be playing a part, even if it was just something as small as pretending Crowley wasn’t as soft around him as he really was, gave Crowley butterflies. “I thought it’d be worth mentioning that Gabriel leaves the night of the business dinner. I do believe I’ll be in dire need of some company. And a drink or three.”

The invitation was a bit startling. He really thought those nights would be gone after Gabriel’s outburst in the shop. Leave it to Aziraphale to still invite Crowley over to enjoy a wine night after he was named the reason for destruction. And to not dutifully show Gabriel where his prized stash was even under duress. Small acts of rebellion.

He must’ve waited too long to answer because Aziraphale was giving him a smile only barely covering his disappointment. 

“Of course, there’s no pressure to, dear boy. I can’t assume you’re going to be free every night convenient for me,” he said, clearly trying to give Crowley an easy out.

“Like you could possibly keep me away,” Crowley replied, almost instantly rewarded with the fake smile blooming into a genuine one.

*******

It was only a couple nights later when Crowley found himself in the very familiar backroom with a very familiar buzz going. Aziraphale had already started by the time he had gotten there, giving Crowley a look that warned him to prepare for the rather impressive dinner rant. Apparently, it had been much of the same which was the problem. Bland restaurant with boring food and bland people with boring dinner topics. Polite smiles. 

Crowley leaned on the desk, refilling his glass. Aziraphale was perched on the couch continuing his tirade between sips.

“Y’know, angel,” Crowley said, “I could always just show up at their office. Raise a little hell. They’ll never connect you to it.”

Aziraphale looked doubtful.

“And how exactly do you plan to ‘raise a little hell’?”

“I dunno, I’ll… How about I pretend to be an electrician and make sure to wait until they’re in the middle of something really important then shut it all down.” Crowley nodded, pleased at his plan. Even more pleased when it made Aziraphale laugh.

“Unfortunately, dear, there are such things as security cameras. You’ll have to come up with something else.”

“_We_ will have to come up with something else,” Crowley corrected. “Can’t expect me to do all of the brainwork, that’s just not fair.”

Aziraphale furrowed his eyebrows, trying very hard to come up with something. Crowley beat him to it.

“Ok, hear me out.” Crowley took a swig of wine. “I single them out one by one and bombard them with prank calls. I’ll send a bunch of telemarketers their way, too. Not a moment’s peace.”

“Absolutely devious,” Aziraphale affirmed. He held out his glass to be topped off.

Crowley watched him take a sip of the replenished wine. Aziraphale really hadn’t had that much more than him but was looking a bit more gone. He was starting to doubt the other had eaten anything besides what Gabriel had allowed.

“Angel?”

“Hm?”

“How do you feel about ordering some takeout? I’m in the mood for Chinese.”

Aziraphale looked relieved at the suggestion, smiling gratefully.

“Oh, dear, that’d be lovely.”

Crowley made a show of taking out his phone. There was only a few places open so late but they certainly weren’t going to be picky about it. It was a few minutes until they had called in their order and twenty after that when they heard a knock on the door, signally their food’s arrival. The young man delivering it looked bored and tired. Crowley tipped him generously.

When he brought the food to the back Aziraphale was looking at the plastic ‘thank you’ bag like it was filled with gold, making grabby hands as Crowley started taking out the white takeout containers. He was happily digging into the chow mein when Crowley realized that this was the most informal meal they’ve ever had together. No tables, no other people. It felt intimate.

Sitting on the floor, they shared each dish, passing back and forth the containers, talking and laughing over nothing. Aziraphale was treating the food with the same appreciation he always had, but eating like he had been starving. While Crowley hoped that wasn’t the literal case, he felt happy that he was the one who had provided the meal. He was the one who was feeding Aziraphale and making him smile and no one could take that away from him.

To drive in that point to himself, and feeling tipsy enough to do it, he got a sizeable bite of noodles on his fork and offered it. He wasn’t sure if Aziraphale would grab it or let himself be fed but it was worth a try. 

Aziraphale glanced between Crowley and the food before leaning forward, keeping eye contact as he wrapped his lips around the fork. Crowley watched, enraptured by the small show Aziraphale put on, disappointed when he pulled back. He didn’t miss the small smile playing on the edge of Aziraphale’s lips as he chewed.

He felt a bit dumbstruck as Aziraphale carried on the conversation.

After they had had their fill, Aziraphale had a look on that usually meant he wanted to breach a topic he was embarrassed about. Crowley waited it out. Finally, Aziraphale gave in, clearing his throat.

“Crowley, do you remember when… Well, it was a while ago I suppose, but, um- oh, where did we go to eat that day? I can’t remember. Maybe we didn’t eat at all, I-”

“Angel, spit it out,” Crowley said, amused.

“Right. Um. Do you remember that one day, we had had quite an awful talk to be honest, you were asking a lot of questions. It was right after you had met Gabriel properly, I believe.”

Crowley frowned. He did remember that day. It must have been the first time he had ever seen Aziraphale cry which was never a good thing. He couldn’t figure out why the hell Aziraphale would want to bring that up. Crowley nodded and motioned for Aziraphale to keep talking.

“You comforted me,” Aziraphale said. Crowley still wasn’t sure where this was going. “You, um, held me. I think about that very fondly.” 

Aziraphale had started to blush a bit and Crowley was starting to have some idea. He could be wrong but if he wasn’t, this was an invitation he would happily take. A window of opportunity that would close very quickly if Crowley didn’t act on it immediately. Crowley stood up and stretched before laying down on the couch, legs spread to make room for Aziraphale, and motioned him over. A part of him couldn’t help but feel like, with the back room’s low, warm light, a mood was being set.

Aziraphale hesitated before standing, swaying slightly. He let Crowley maneuver them until they were in a comfortable position- Aziraphale’s head resting high on Crowley’s chest, Crowley’s arms around him.

Crowley could feel Aziraphale taking deep breaths in and out, could smell his subtle cologne. The warmth and the pressure and the alcohol almost made him feel like he was floating.

As they laid there, Crowley realized that most of the touches they had between them were born out of worry or the need to comfort but right now, Aziraphale wasn’t crying or distressed and Crowley didn’t feel any impending doom, they just… were. They were Being. There was no pretense for this kind of contact. He wondered if Aziraphale was thinking the same thing.

“Is this alright for you?” Aziraphale asked. 

“More than alright.” 

Neither moved for a while and Crowley was beginning to wonder if Aziraphale had fallen asleep when he felt a hand run lightly over his collarbone. He suppressed a shiver. Aziraphale’s fingers idly ran delicate shapes across the top of his chest, slowly climbing up. When they reached his neck, Crowley struggled to keep his breathing even, not wanting to take any chances at breaking the moment. Going up the middle of his neck, they ran briefly over his Adam’s apple before they traced his jaw bone from his chin up to his ear, slow and reverent. The hand smoothed over the spot his snake tattoo occupied before stopping to rest there, seeming to have finished its journey. Crowley looked down to see Aziraphale already looking up at him, eyes wide and shining. He shifted a bit so they were looking at each other head on and, honestly, Crowley couldn’t help himself. 

Bringing a hand up to cup Aziraphale’s face, Crowley pressed a kiss to the spot he had secretly claimed before. He waited for a reaction, a signal for him to stop, but Aziraphale didn’t move, instead looking at Crowley expectantly. Crowley pressed another kiss beside his last, then another to his temple and another to his cheekbone. Aziraphale was breathing harder as Crowley kissed the center of his cheek with another kiss right below that and one more right below that one. He paused before placing one to the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth, feeling more drunk on the feel of him than from the wine. Crowley directed his gaze up to Aziraphale’s eyes, silently asking for permission and feeling a rush at being so close. Getting to see the color in them taken over by the large, blown pupils. 

After a couple seconds that felt like an eternity, Aziraphale looked down at Crowley’s lips and leaned forward.

Crowley felt a pang of rejection when the kiss hit just to the side of his mouth before Aziraphale put his head back down. 

They didn’t say anything. Crowley wanted to but he didn’t know what could be said and he wasn’t quite sure his voice would work after that. He knew he had to accept what he got and he had just been allowed way more than he thought he’d be able to get tonight. Crowley tightened his arms around Aziraphale, both to soak it in and communicate in some way that what just happened was good. That he wasn’t upset with Aziraphale for stopping.

It felt like a long while before Aziraphale started to shift.

“As much as I want to sleep like this, it really wouldn’t be fair to you. You’d wake up in an absolute mess of pain,” Aziraphale said, untangling himself from Crowley. 

Crowley knew this was Aziraphale-speak for “this is a line I’m not ready to cross” and sat up. The lack of body heat was immediately apparent.

“Yeah, I should probably be heading back.” Crowley smoothed down the back of his hair. “Let me at least see you off, though. Make sure you can get a cab alright.”

“You really don’t have to.”

Crowley shook his head.

“Do you really want me worrying about you wandering off drunk into trouble in the middle of the night, angel?” Crowley said, eyebrows raised.

“Well, If you put it that way it only makes sense that you stay for a bit longer,” Aziraphale said, pretending to really think it over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely wonderful response to the last chapter, thank you so much!! Reading all the in depth comments was such a treat, I hope this you guys like the new chapter!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second knock came tentatively but was definitely there. Crowley frowned, striding over to the door and opening it to find no one there. He stepped out into the hallway.
> 
> “Aziraphale?”

“Device.” Crowley knocked on Anathema’s desk, feigning innocence when she startled and glared at him. “How would you feel about another lunch out with Aziraphale?”

“Obviously, I’d love to,” Anathema said, eyeing him suspiciously. “But what’s in it for you?”

Crowley shrugged.

“I get to see him happy,” he said, plainly.

Anathema’s face softened, eyes immediately filled with emotion. 

“And,” Crowley continued, “I get the honor of watching him try to set you up with that Newton guy.”

He gave her a smug grin, walking off quickly while she processed what he had just said. It only took a couple seconds before he could hear her protesting behind him. 

“Crowley, I swear to god, do not tell me you signed me up for a date with him,” Anathema said, following hot on his heels.

Crowley turned into his office, and took a seat, nonchalantly.

“I did nothing of the sort. It’s just gonna be the four of us talking, eating.”

“You’re setting me up on a double date! I told you not to play matchmaker,” Anathema accused.

“Who said anything about a date?”

She gave him an unimpressed look, arms crossing.

“Besides, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? Met some new people? S’not like we’re gonna be hitting up the nightlife. It’s just lunch,” Crowley said. 

“You don’t know what I do in my free time.”

“Enlighten me.” Crowley gestured, waiting. 

Now that he thought about it, Anathema was a bit bookish. He didn’t know too much about her personal life, unless what he knew was all there was, and if that was the case, there wasn’t much to be said about it.

She glared at him, not answering.

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“It’s… none of your business,” Anathema said, defensively. “For your information, I’m well acquainted with the bar near my house. Lots of interesting people go there.”

“Taking advantage of the British drinking age, then?”

“Not too much.” Anathema looked like she was trying to decipher whether Crowley’s comment was approval. “And stop trying to change the subject.”

“I think I did a pretty good job.”

“I don’t want to be stuck talking to some guy I don’t know.”

“Listen,” Crowley picked up a pen off his deck and attempted spinning it between his fingers, “Aziraphale was thrilled just talking about the four of us spending time together.”

Anathema sighed.

“Fine. Only for Aziraphale.”

*****

“Anathema! It’s so good to see you again.”

Anathema wasted no time in giving Aziraphale a tight hug. Aziraphale returned the hug just as enthusiastically. Crowley looked on, envious at how easy Anathema was able to give physical affection to Aziraphale. Why was it so easy between those two when it would feel so odd and serious if he did the same? Neither of them had said anything about the kisses. Aziraphale was acting like nothing has changed and what was Crowley to do but follow along? 

“And Crowley, dear, it’s always a treat to see you,” Aziraphale said with a knowing smile.

“Same to you, angel,” Crowley replied, easily.

They looked at each other for a beat longer before Aziraphale’s eyes widened.

“Oh! Oh, Anathema, this is Newton.” Aziraphale gestured at Newt, who was hanging back behind him, looking between Aziraphale and Crowley.

Newt came forward and held his hand out, looking a little flustered when Anathema shook it. 

“It’s just Newt,” he said.

Anathema smiled, politely. 

“Nice to meet you.”

Aziraphale clasped his hands together, pleased as he looked at the two of them, missing the glare Anathema shot at Crowley when she turned away from Newt.

If Crowley thought Aziraphale had been happy when he brought Anathema the first time, it was nothing compared to how he looked at a table for four, chatting away about whatever it was Anathema brought up. There was a softness to his expression that was almost wistful, like he was drinking in a moment that might never happen again.

The wind had been picking up outside with gray clouds moving in so the group had opted for an indoor table. Despite warning looks from Anathema, Crowley had taken the seat opposite from her to sit next to Aziraphale.

Even distracted by Aziraphale, Crowley was having a bit of fun listening in on Anathema and Newt’s conversation. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride when Anathema described her work in a way that sounded like she was trying to intimidate Newt, something she was easily succeeding at. Newt replied something about the archival gig he had going but was also talking about computer programming. Crowley lost track after that but his ears perked a bit when he heard Newt’s voice get a bit quieter.

“Are we helping Mr. Fell cheat right now?” Newt asked, leaning in.

Anathema paused, thinking it over. 

“Not exactly.” She glanced over at Crowley who was trying his best to look like he wasn’t listening in. “More like… showing him better options.”

If Crowley could high-five her inconspicuously, he would.

He turned his full attention back to Aziraphale, who was telling him about an interesting new addition he had gotten in his botany section when Crowley noticed it. Right on the side of Aziraphale's forehead, there was a discolored patch of skin, slightly darker than the rest in an odd way that Crowley couldn’t tell if it was a shadow or not.

“I think you’ve got something right there,” Crowley said, moving forward to touch it.

Aziraphale moved his head away before Crowley went any further.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Aziraphale said, with a laugh.

“So it is something then.” Crowley furrowed his eyebrows, looking closer despite Aziraphale uncomfortably looking away from him.

Crowley felt his blood turn cold.

“Is that a bruise?”

Aziraphale didn’t have to answer. Now that Crowley had identified it, it was very apparent Aziraphale had tried his hand at using makeup to cover the mark underneath. Both Anathema and Newt had looked over at the question and Aziraphale’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“I got a bit clumsy is all. No need to make a scene.”

“Clumsy?”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, pleading him with his eyes to accept the explanation and move on.

After an uncomfortable beat of silence, Anathema grabbed Newt’s hand.

“Wanna take a walk? I need some air,” she said, in a way that was more of a demand than a question.

“Uh.” Newt looked like his brain was short-circuiting at the contact.

“Great.” Anathema smiled and stood, pulling him up with her. “We’ll be right back.”

The two set off, leaving Aziraphale looking like being alone with Crowley was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Well, they’re certainly getting along well,” Aziraphale said, feigning obliviousness.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Angel.” 

Aziraphale didn’t answer. Crowley reached forward, slow enough for Aziraphale to stop him if he wanted to, and turned Aziraphale’s head to the side to get a better look. What was visible of the bruise was about an inch in diameter.

“What did he do?”

Aziraphale sighed.

“Really, Crowley, it’s nothing. It was an accident.”

“Sounds familiar,” Crowley said. He put his arm down. “What did he do?”

“He’s just been a bit… tetchy since he’s come home from his last trip. Work has been stressful. I promise he hasn’t purposefully hurt me.”

Tetchy didn’t sound very promising at all.

“It’s getting worse,” Crowley said, more thinking aloud than anything.

Aziraphale looked down at the table, almost ashamed like it was his fault, which was more than enough confirmation.

“He’s overworked.” Aziraphale sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “He can’t help it.”

“That’s what he wants you to think.”

Crowley took a breath, trying to stay calm. He had a made a resolution not to push, to let Aziraphale come when he was ready, but he didn’t want that to be when Gabriel finally decides to cause major physical harm. Why couldn’t Aziraphale just trust him instead of trying to cover bruises and lie about them? He shouldn’t need to be drunk to openly seek out Crowley.

After a stretch of silence, Aziraphale finally looked over at him.

“I didn’t want to upset you with it. I guess I didn’t do a very good job at that.” Aziraphale gave him a small, apologetic smile, barely a sad quirk of the lips.

Crowley maintained eye contact, wanting to drive his point in.

“When I said I wanted to help you, I meant it, angel. I just want you safe.”

“I _am_ safe,” Aziraphale said, unconvincingly. “And I really didn’t mean to put a damper on the day. Should we find where Anathema and Newton ran off to?”

As Aziraphale looked at him, waiting for a reply, Crowley felt a horrible sinking feeling telling him that it was all futile. Maybe he really had just signed himself up for some impalpable form of love where he was forced to sit back and watch bad things unfold in front of him, with the occasional drunk intimacy to hold him over. 

“They’ll be fine,” Crowley said, trying not to convey any of these thoughts.

It felt like there was a piece missing to it all. Like if he said the right combination of words, he’d be able to fix everything and get to run off with Aziraphale. Crowley worked all day finding improbable solutions but this was one that always felt just out of grasp. He looked at Aziraphale’s hand, fiddling with the cloth napkin on the table, and thought of Anathema hugging Aziraphale, easy and carefree. He thought of Aziraphale shyly admitting he thought about Crowley holding him. Two steps forward, one step back.

Aziraphale was giving him a worried look and Crowley could practically feel the guilty energy rolling off him. Trying not to overthink it, Crowley placed his hand on Aziraphale’s, pausing long enough for Aziraphale to brush him off if he wanted before entwining their fingers. He fought the urge to look over and see what Aziraphale’s reaction was, focusing on trying to look cool and collected as he asked about the botany book he had been talking about.

When Newt and Anathema returned, Anathema complaining about London weather and Newt looking at her like she was speaking poetry, Aziraphale gave Crowley’s hand a squeeze before releasing it.

******

The wind was picking up outside Crowley’s flat, a slight whistling accompanied by the sound of the first drops of rain hitting his window panes. He looked out into the dreary nighttime, listening as the rain took no time at all to pick up the pace, the spaced taps turning into more of a thrumming torrent. Even though it was a comfortable temperature inside, just watching made him feel colder. 

Crowley set about running a bath, humming some Queen song that got stuck in his head on his drive home as he tested the water temperature. He thought about taking a shower instead since it was a bit late, having stayed overtime with Anathema to work through a few things, but that made a bath all the more enticing. 

Anathema had spent most of the time asking about Aziraphale. She was worried but also had an absolute field day when he let slip about the last wine night. When talking about how nice it had been to see Aziraphale again, she ended up admitting Newt was “not that bad” which Crowley didn’t care for at all. 

Letting the bath run, Crowley walked out into the living room to grab his phone when he heard a soft knocking on the door. He paused, wondering if he had imagined the noise, straining to hear over the rain and bath for another. The second knock came tentatively but was definitely there. Crowley frowned, striding over to the door and opening it to find no one there. He stepped out into the hallway.

“Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale stopped walking and turned around. He was drenched, holding onto an old-fashioned tartan suitcase, looking absolutely miserable. 

“Crowley, I hope I didn’t wake you,” Aziraphale said, voice definitely hoarse from crying.

“I… was gonna take a bath.” Crowley felt like he was rooted to the spot by confusion and pure concern.

“Oh. I’ll, um, let you get to it then.”

Aziraphale nodded and began to turn again, effectively snapping Crowley out of it. Barely aware of what he was doing, he suddenly had Aziraphale wrapped in his arms, the suitcase lodged awkwardly between them. Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind, his free hand clutching onto Crowley’s shirt hard, head buried in his neck. Crowley nuzzled his face into the wet hair. He couldn’t tell if the shaking was Aziraphale crying or shivering.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go,” Aziraphale said, voice muffled by Crowley’s shoulder.

Crowley held tighter, shushing him.

“Come on, let’s get you inside, you’re freezing.”

He took the suitcase from Aziraphale and kept one arm around him as he guided him in. 

“I’ve gotta turn the water off but I’ll be right back, alright?”

Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley hurried into the bathroom, glad that the water hadn’t overflowed and worried that when he went back out, Aziraphale would be gone. He was relieved to find that Aziraphale was still there, having taken off his coat and looking around like he was afraid to get anything wet.

“Do you wanna wash up? I can make you something hot to drink while you’re in there.”

Aziraphale wrung his hands.

“I’m intruding on your plans.”

“It’s just a bath, angel. We’ll talk about what happened after, I just need to get you warmed up.” 

Aziraphale looked like he was about to argue but nodded instead, following after Crowley.

After getting him settled, Crowley set about making hot chocolate, mind reeling. Aziraphale had a suitcase. Was he leaving Gabriel? Was he running away for the night? Did Gabriel kick him out? A part of Crowley hoped it was the latter. A clean break from Gabriel, no running back. He wondered if that was a bad thought to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you guys both for the patience and the wonderful comments! I hope the new chapter was worth the wait, I've got big plans for the next one.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What am I going to do?” Aziraphale asked.
> 
> Crowley wished he had a clean cut answer.
> 
> “We’ll figure it out,” he settled on. 

Aziraphale emerged from the bathroom in a set of tartan pyjamas, hair sticking up every which way from towel drying. He looked less shaken than when he had gone in, the desperate look in his eyes replaced by a more subdued anxiousness. Somehow he managed to look even more exhausted than when he had been in Crowley’s flat before.

“I hope the pyjamas don’t come off as presumptuous,” Aziraphale said, shifting awkwardly, “I, um, I don’t mean to invite myself over for the night.”

The sentence was so Aziraphale that if it had been any other occasion, Crowley could’ve laughed.

“That’s alright, I’m inviting you.” 

Aziraphale gave Crowley a small smile, walking over to sit on the couch. The greenish bruise on his forehead that had been hidden before was now a stark contrast against the otherwise unblemished skin. Crowley tried not to stare but found his eyes compulsively searching for other marks. Even though he didn’t find any, the pyjamas covered too much to be comforted.

Crowley passed him the mug of hot chocolate and Aziraphale took it with both hands, like he was trying to absorb it’s warmth. 

“Aren’t you going to have one as well?” Aziraphale asked, noticing the absence of a second mug.

Crowley shook his head.

“I don’t like sweet.”

Aziraphale looked at him curiously. Crowley was hoping he wouldn’t have to explain that the only reason he had anything on hand for quick hot chocolate was on the off chance Aziraphale would come back to his at some point. Luckily, Aziraphale lifted the drink to his lips without further comment, giving it a cautious first sip before deciding the temperature was cool enough to drink freely. Crowley gave him a minute of silence before trying to pry.

“Are you hurting anywhere?”

Aziraphale hesitated.

“Don’t tell me you’re alright if you’re not,” Crowley said. He needed to know if anything needed to be taken care of.

“My back is a little sore, is all. Maybe my head as well,” Aziraphale said, quietly.

Crowley made a mental note to find the pain relievers.

“Can you tell me what happened,” Crowley asked, keeping his voice steady. The rage inside him felt like it was going to claw its way out.

Aziraphale focused intently on the hot chocolate.

“He’s just been… This past week I haven’t had a single moment where I’ve been able to make him happy. Every night it’s gotten-” Aziraphale sighed heavily. He looked like he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I misplaced a dish tonight and… I’ve never seen him act that way over a mild mistake.”

Misplacing a dish as a punishable mistake at all was ridiculous. Crowley waited for Aziraphale to continue, afraid that if he made the wrong comment, Aziraphale would clam up again.

“The flat was an utter wreck when I left. Parts of it, at least. The kitchen, especially.” He glanced up at Crowley before looking back down at the mug. “After he went though his usual, he didn’t calm down like he normally does. I was apologizing but it just seemed to make him more angry.”

All Crowley could picture was Aziraphale on the ground, surrounded by chaos, whispering apologies.

“He grabbed me,” Aziraphale continued, quieter, a frown on his face. “I don’t- I don’t think he meant to push me into the wall with quite as much force as he did.”

Crowley could practically feel his blood boiling. The rage dissipated into something more along the lines of alarm when Aziraphale looked up at him with pure fear in his eyes, breath beginning to pick up.

“What have I done,” Aziraphale whispered, searching Crowley’s eyes like he could find whatever answer he needed in them. “He’s going to be furious if he finds out I’ve left, I- I’ve got to go back, I-”

Aziraphale set down his mug with shaking hands, looking like he was about to bolt. Before he could stand, Crowley was right there next to him, pulling him close.

“Nonononono, Aziraphale listen to me,” Crowley said, trying to find a balance between holding him tight enough to make sure he didn’t try to get up and loose enough to come off as nonthreatening. Aziraphale was only fighting to get up half-heartedly, hyperventilating as he struggled.

“Crowley, please, you- I- I have to go!”

“You’ve got to breathe, angel,” Crowley said. “Deep breaths.”

“It’s not too late,” Aziraphale insisted, almost hysterical, “please, Crowley, I have to go back, he’s- he’s probably still sleeping I can still go back.”

Crowley could feel him trembling and as much as he hated Aziraphale to sound distressed, this was absolutely one thing he would not allow. Especially since he was breathing so quickly Crowley was concerned he’d pass out.

“Angel, _breathe_.”

It must’ve been his tone of voice, worried and firm, because all the fight left Aziraphale at once. His breathing was still harsh but beginning to stutter as he managed a good breath. 

“Good,” Crowley murmured, running his hands through Aziraphale’s slightly damp hair. 

He lessened his hold, glad to find Aziraphale leaning into him rather than away. 

“You came to me for a reason, angel. You know what he’s doing is wrong.”

For a minute, the only sounds were Aziraphale’s breathing and the rain pattering. 

“What if it’s not?” Aziraphale asked, quietly. It sounded like, just by voicing the question, Aziraphale expected Crowley to change his stance. Come to the realization that Gabriel had the right idea of what Aziraphale needed.

Crowley sat Aziraphale up and turned his face toward his own. 

“He’s wrong,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale didn’t look like he was keen on agreeing or disagreeing.

“What am I going to do?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley wished he had a clean cut answer.

“We’ll figure it out,” he settled on. 

The answer didn’t seem to comfort Aziraphale as much as Crowley wished it did but Aziraphale nodded.

“Do you… did you only plan to leave for the night?” 

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale admitted.

It wasn’t the ideal reply but it was better than Aziraphale saying he had only wanted a night away.

“We can talk about it more in the morning.”

That seemed to settle the subject for the time being. By the time Aziraphale had remembered the rest of the cocoa, it had gone cold and after administering pain medication, Crowley suggested sleep. This time, Aziraphale didn’t offer to sleep on the couch, probably too exhausted. It was also obvious what Crowley’s answer would be. He looked less awkward in Crowley’s bed than he had last time and Crowley felt that twisting feeling in his chest seeing him crawl under the blankets in the spot Crowley typically occupies, tartan pyjamas looking nice in a way against the black sheets. Crowley was grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to bring out to the couch when Aziraphale sat up.

“You can, um.” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “You can sleep in here if you’d like.”

Crowley hesitated. He’d very much like but he didn’t want Aziraphale just saying that because he felt bad about crashing.

“Are you sure?” Crowley asked, trying to not give away how much he’d like that.

“I’d like you to,” Aziraphale said. The way he said it reminded Crowley of a child afraid of the dark.

Crowley nodded and set the pillow back down. He turned off the lights before getting into the bed. Knowing Aziraphale was right there made him both nervous but completely calm. He was here and he was safe and Crowley could attest for that whenever he wanted throughout the night. 

It almost felt like it should feel awkward but it was nice, especially with the tapping of the rain to serve as white noise. He heard Aziraphale shuffle closer and for a moment he almost expected to feel him get close enough so that they’d be touching but when he looked over, Aziraphale’s eyes were closed and there was still an unfortunate amount of space between them. As much as he wanted to stay awake just to revel in the proximity, Crowley was exhausted and found sleep coming over him too easy. He could only hope Aziraphale wouldn’t leave before he woke up.

*****

Crowley woke up slowly. He enjoyed sleep and never was a morning person no matter how late that morning was but this morning felt like it was going to be especially hard. He was warm and comfortable. When he couldn’t quite get himself to drift off again completely, he groaned and tightened his arms around the warm body under him. 

He heard a huffed laugh.

It was then that his brain provided him with a complete recollection of the night before. Crowley was still properly groggy but he almost felt like he should sit up and apologize for the invasion of personal space. Almost. The hand carding softly through his hair was making it hard to even open his eyes. He couldn’t recall the last time anyone had played with his hair like that and wasn’t sure anyone that wasn’t a family member ever had.

“Feels nice,” Crowley mumbled.

Aziraphale hummed and Crowley could feel the gentle vibrations from his chest.

“What time is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Aziraphale said, sounding a little embarrassed. His voice was rough with sleep. “Your phone went off a bit ago. I should’ve woken you then.”

“Thas’ alright.” Crowley blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tilted his head up, pleased to find Aziraphale’s face closer than expected. The hand in his hair stopped but stayed.

The fact that Aziraphale seemed completely fine with the accidental cuddling made Crowley feel warm inside. Hopeful. Crowley felt like he was still dreaming. There was no way he would’ve allowed himself this while conscious and he wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to what they were going to have to discuss later.

“Good morning, dear boy,” Aziraphale said, softly.

“Mornin’,” Crowley replied.

“I would’ve made breakfast but I seem to have found myself a bit tangled up.” Aziraphale sounded both amused and genuinely apologetic.

At the mention of breakfast, Crowley’s stomach growled. He thought it very unfair that bodies needed food even while laying on very comfortable men with stupidly adorable bedhead. 

“You’re the guest in my humble abode,” Crowley said, regretfully sitting up, “therefore _I_ get to treat _you_ to breakfast.”

“Hardly humble,” Aziraphale said with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

*****

Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him as he cooked. It felt domestic. He could almost fool himself that this was the way it was all the time and as he slid the plat of food over to Aziraphale, he wondered when exactly he had started wanting this. When had he stopped wanting to live hard and fast? When did he cross that line? 

If his past self walked through the door at this very moment, he would’ve taken in this entire situation and wondered what the hell his future self was playing at.

Aziraphale was staring at the plate with an odd expression, fork in hand but not making a move to start eating and Crowley was starting to worry that he was going to reject it like before.

“Angel?”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said, sincerely. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Crowley said.

Crowley grabbed his own breakfast and sat down next to him. After starting on his own breakfast, Aziraphale started eating as well, hesitantly but gratefully, like he was breaking a rule. 

“I don’t know if you’ve, er, thought more on things but you can stay here as long as you like,” Crowley prompted.

Aziraphale was taking his time chewing. 

“The longer I’m gone, the more upset he’s going to be with me,” Aziraphale said, avoiding Crowley’s eyes.

Crowley’s heart sunk.

“So, you want to go back.”

Aziraphale sighed, closing his eyes. 

“I overreacted last night. It’s not realistic, Crowley- throwing a serious relationship away over one fight.”

Crowley was dumbfounded.

“One fight?” Crowley asked, trying to look for any sign that maybe, for some inexplicable reason, Aziraphale was joking. “Just because something was a breaking point doesn’t mean everything else wasn’t awful as well. Angel, you said it yourself, he’s been getting worse.”

“_You_ said that. I just… pointed out changes.”

“He hurt you,” Crowley said.

“And where would I go? If I left for good? What would I do? It’d take a month, at least, just to get the flat above the shop back to a livable state.”

“You can stay with me.”

“Crowley, I can’t just show up on your doorstep at some ungodly hour and expect you to accommodate me for some indiscernible amount of time. I can’t expect you to do that, it’s not fair to you. I don’t want to burden you with this. What does it matter if I go back?”

Something told Crowley that if he let Aziraphale slip away now it was going to be impossible to get him to try to leave again later.

“I think I can decide for myself what’s fair to me,” Crowley said. “And it’s nowhere near unfair for you to stay. I…”

I love you.

“I want you to stay. It matters to me if you go back.” 

Aziraphale kept quiet but almost looked hopeful.

“I can help you with your flat if you wanna move back in there,” Crowley continued. “You can’t let one thing force you to be with that asshole.”

“It’s not just one thing,” Aziraphale said. He sounded insistent but Crowley could tell he was swaying.

“Tell me what else there is and I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s- we’ve been together so long! Our lives are very entwined, there’s-,” Aziraphale paused, furrowing his eyebrows as he mentally searched for more reasons. 

Crowley had a feeling that, besides manipulation, he wouldn’t be finding anything.

“You run your own business. You’ve got your own money. You don’t like his friends,” Crowley said, trying not to sound like he thought Aziraphale dumb for not realizing sooner. “Do you need to get anything back from his place?”

“I, um,” Aziraphale said, faintly, like the situation he was in was actually starting to sink in. “I brought everything with me. It was… just clothes.”

Crowley wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, almost feeling guilty for asking.

“Am I really able to do this.” Aziraphale looked at Crowley like he wasn’t sure if he was imagining him or if he was real

Crowley wanted to point out that he could do whatever he wanted, perhaps make a speech about how freeing it was going to be, but he knew the answer Aziraphale needed.

“Yes,” Crowley said, seriously.

Aziraphale nodded.

“What should I do about the shop? He’s going to find me there and I can’t just abandon my books.”

Crowley thought about it.

“I’ll be there. I’ll bring along the paperwork that I can do away from the office, piss off some customers while I’m at it. I’m well past due for a break from that place anyways.”

“Why are you going through all this trouble?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley almost wished there was a catch. Some truly ulterior motive that he had as an excuse for all of this, something he expected in return. It really was a lot of daunting work. He felt like he might be biting off too much to chew, almost certainly was, but there was no way he could see himself denying Aziraphale anything. It’d be cruel if “anything” was actually everything but a way out.

“You’re my best friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little derailed so the next chapter could be more focused but I hope you enjoyed! I absolutely loved the response I got from the last update, thank you so much.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, calmly, “I’ve decided to not let this little act of rebellion come between us."

It was decided that Aziraphale would go back to the shop the next day. A part of Crowley was surprised, considering that Aziraphale always loved a chance to defer customers and avoiding an abusive (ex?) boyfriend was a more than reasonable excuse, but he knew that Aziraphale felt it was better to get the inevitable confrontation over with even if he didn’t want to voice the reason for needing to open the bookstore. Crowley, on the other hand, wasn’t sure how he felt about it. If it was up to him, he’d keep Aziraphale safe in his flat until he figured out a way to drive Gabriel out of the country.

Even though there was no guarantee that Gabriel would even come by so soon, knowing what was ahead set an odd atmosphere where both men were trying to relax into the current peace but were wound a bit too tight to do it properly. 

Crowley spent some time on the phone, setting up work plans for the next week. Aziraphale busied himself by looking at the art Crowley kept around the flat in the meantime. After, Crowley discovered that Aziraphale never watched television expect for a film here and there and decided it was a good time to introduce him to a few of his favorite action films. 

When bedtime came around, Aziraphale once again asked if Crowley would sleep with him in the bed. 

****

Aziraphale looked less nervous once reunited with the familiar stacks and shelves. Crowley watched as he looked over the rows, fingers trailing along the bindings like he was mentally checking off that everything was where he left them, despite it not being long at all since he had last been in. Crowley didn’t know how Aziraphale kept track of it all. To anyone else, the shop was more like a small labyrinth, the books set up in such a way that one could tell there was a sense of organization but what exactly that organization was structured around remained indecipherable. 

“It’s getting a bit dusty in here,” Crowley commented, starting to feel a bit awkward standing there and staring.

“I happen to like the dust,” Aziraphale said. He looked over his shoulder at Crowley. “Make yourself at home, dear boy. If you do intend on staying all day, might as well find something to entertain yourself with. I’m afraid you’re going to find it a bit dull around here during business hours.”

Crowley picked up a book from the center table, turning it over in his hands.

“No place can be dull when I’m around, angel,” Crowley said, pleased with the sound of Aziraphale’s huffed laughter. The air felt lighter.

Not that Crowley would tell Aziraphale, but it did get rather boring about an hour in though it was mostly due to him trying to sort through his paperwork. While it was the same, tedious headache, the one perk that he didn’t have whilst doing paperwork in his office, was getting to hear Aziraphale go about his daily business. The sounds of papers rustling, Aziraphale mumbling things under his breath as he went through part of a new collection he had got in, and, for about four minutes, Crowley heard Aziraphale humming. He couldn’t make out what song it was but it was a lovely sound that Crowley could’ve listened to all day.

When it was just the two of them, there was a warm, calm feeling that permeated in the small shop. A few customers wandered in at intermittent times causing both men to tense up whenever the bell above the door jingled, though they pretended they didn’t. 

During a self-imposed break, Crowley hung about the store front, following Aziraphale around as he shelved the new books, asking questions about any book whose title piqued his interest. At first, he had worried that maybe he was annoying Aziraphale but those worries dissipated when Aziraphale happily gave him a large stack of books to hold so he could put them away without having to go back and forth from the counter. The weight of the books took Crowley surprise, almost dropping them all. Aziraphale had made it look so easy.

After that task had been exhausted, Crowley picked a book out and taken a seat in the back where, barely anytime after, he heard someone walk into the shop. He paused, listening for any sign that he’d be needed.

It only took a couple of seconds before Crowley heard Aziraphale saying Gabriel’s name and only a few more after that before he was there in the front room with them, heart already pounding a bit harder. Aziraphale was between the counter and the taller man, nervous smile on his face.

Both of them looked over at Crowley.

“Why am I not surprised,” Gabriel said, smugly. He looked almost identical as to when Crowley had last seen him. His suit was the same color, hair kept neat, posture just as arrogant. The only thing that had seemed to change was the color of his tie.

“What do you want,” Crowley asked, voice cold.

“What I want is to know how long my boyfriend has been cheating on me.”

“Gabriel, I- I promise you I’ve never- we’ve never done anything,” Aziraphale stammered, alarmed at the accusation. He began nervously wringing his hands.

“Never done anything? Like, I don’t know, maybe sneak around behind my back? Sleep at his place? How many times have you let him corrupt you?”

Aziraphale was struggling to find words, looking guilt-stricken.

“Leave him alone, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Crowley said, itching to jump at Gabriel. He felt like he was coiled up, ready to strike if the other man made a wrong move. The tension was thick but it was almost like an odd game of chess- Crowley knowing if he made a move too soon, he could possibly scare Aziraphale right back into Gabriel’s arms. “Why don’t you piss off and let him be?”

Gabriel sighed deeply, giving a Crowley a considering look like he was a stray cat that had somehow managed to make its way inside just to be a nuisance. He clasped his hands in front of himself, the picture of composure.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, calmly, “I’ve decided to not let this little act of rebellion come between us. Even though you’ve been unfaithful, I’m willing to work out a way that will keep you from…” Gabriel cast an eye Crowley’s way, “_unseemly_ acquaintances. Perhaps I hadn’t made myself clear enough but I won’t make the same mistake twice.” He smiled in a practiced way, close-lipped and not reaching his eyes. “You’re coming home with me. We’re not gonna wait for this cry for attention to get anymore pathetic than it already is and it’s because I love you.” 

Crowley scoffed and Aziraphale looked between them, anxiously. There was a worrying hopelessness in his eyes when they connected with Crowley’s.

“He’s not going anywhere with you,” Crowley said, taking a step closer. 

“You don’t have a say in this, it’s none of your business,” Gabriel replied, annoyance evident in his voice. “Aziraphale, I think we need to have this conversation somewhere more private.”

He gestured for Aziraphale to lead the way out of the shop. Aziraphale stayed still. 

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, sharply. “I said we’re leaving.”

Before Aziraphale could reply, Gabriel was grabbing onto his arm.

“Gabriel!” Aziraphale yelped, taken by surprise. He struggled in Gabriel’s grasp as he was yanked toward the door.

Crowley took that as his cue and stalked forward.

“Get your hands off of him,” Crowley growled, pushing on Gabriel as he tried to release Aziraphale from the tight grip.

“Gabriel, dear, you’re hurting me,” Aziraphale pleaded.

The scuffle only lasted a moment longer as Gabriel let go, sending Aziraphale reeling back slightly. Crowley didn’t have a chance to react before Gabriel had him by the lapels of his jacket and shoved him backwards onto the floor. He caught the edge of a bookcase with his back, causing a couple of books to fall down around him and a dull pain in his shoulder blade.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” Gabriel spit out. “Aziraphale, for Heaven’s sake if you don’t walk out that door right now-”

“No.”

Both Crowley and Gabriel looked at him in surprise. That one word made pride bloom in Crowley’s chest. 

Aziraphale was looking at Gabriel, resolutely, standing up straight, hands balled into fists at his sides. Even from his view on the floor, Crowley could see a bit of fear betrayed in his eyes but that wasn’t stopping him.

“What did you say to me?” Gabriel asked like he had misheard.

Aziraphale wavered a bit but held his stance.

“I- I said no. I will not be going with you. Not now, not- not later, I’ve taken my belongings and I shall be staying with Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice stayed strong but he couldn’t maintain eye contact. He glanced over as Crowley stood and took a breath. “I’m very sorry but I can’t be with you anymore.”

A beat of silence followed and Aziraphale shifted uneasily.

Gabriel laughed in disbelief, causing Aziraphale to flinch slightly.

“You know, you’ve really done it now, sunshine,” Gabriel said, with the same tone one would use when giving a disappointed lecture to a child who had come home with a bad mark on an exam.

Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Gabriel stepped closer to Aziraphale and raised his arm threateningly.

Before Crowley could make any attempt to stop it, the back of Gabriel’s hand connected to Aziraphale’s face with a sharp _crack_, the force of it sending Aziraphale onto the ground. Aziraphale didn’t so much as make a sound rather than a shocked exhale. 

Crowley lunged forward.

“You _motherfucker_,” Crowley hissed between clenched teeth as his fist hit Gabriel square in the jaw. Adrenaline was running through Crowley’s veins and he had never truly understood the term “seeing red” until this very moment. It felt almost animalistic, pure instinct. 

This was the asshole that kept Aziraphale from making friends. From eating. From making his own decisions. The one who tore down Aziraphale’s self worth and belittled every single thing Aziraphale devoted himself to. The one who intimidated by wrecking things, by controlling, by taking way every bit of autonomy he could while still leaving everyone with the impression that they had a healthy, loving relationship. This was the guy that had forced Aziraphale to not only suffer but to suffer in silence, alone.

Gabriel fought back but barely got a punch in as Crowley kept up the assailment, grabbing onto the shoulder of his jacket to keep him close. Each blow landed felt satisfying both in sound and touch. After a particularly good hit to the nose, Gabriel staggered back, managing to get away from Crowley. The two were both breathing hard and though it felt like they had been at it for quite a while, the entire fight had probably lasted half a minute.

“You want him?” Gabriel asked, gingerly touching the bridge of his nose. “Have him. He’s not worth the trouble.”

“Get out.” Crowley kept his fists clenched.

Gabriel smoothed out his hair and his suit jacket, turning to Aziraphale who looked both heartbroken and betrayed, eyes watery and cheek red from where he had been struck.

“I hope you know he’s gonna fuck you and leave you the second he figures out how useless you really are. And when you come crying back to me, you better hope I'm in a generous mood.”

“Get the fuck out,” Crowley yelled.

Throwing a last disdainful look at them, Gabriel left.

Crowley wasted no time in hurrying over to Aziraphale, crouching next to him.

“Angel, are you okay?” He tilted Aziraphale’s head to assess the damage, mad at himself that he hadn’t intervened sooner. He should have known Gabriel was going to do something like that. He shouldn’t have let Aziraphale anywhere near him in the first place.

Aziraphale blinked uncertainly, like he was still trying to process what had just happened.

“I think I should be asking you that, dear boy.”

Crowley had a moment where he had no idea what Aziraphale was talking about, too stuck on the fact that Gabriel had hit Aziraphale that he didn’t realize what a sight that must’ve been.

“He only got me a couple times,” Crowley said, truthfully, barely registering the pain caused by the few uncoordinated punches to his abdomen.

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand and brought it up between them, looking pointedly at the reddened knuckles, one of which had split slightly.

“Are they broken?”

Crowley flexed his hand. It was starting to hurt a bit but definitely nothing serious.

“Nah, nothing a little ice won’t help.”

Aziraphale sighed, scrunching his eyebrows.

“That was rather reckless, Crowley. Completely unnecessary.”

“He hit you,” Crowley said, bewildered. “Absolutely necessary in my books.”

“He was right, though. I wasn’t worth the trouble. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“Hey.” Crowley ducked his head to catch Aziraphale’s eye. Aziraphale looked miserable and Crowley wished he could kiss the expression away. “You’re worth all the trouble in the world, alright?”

Aziraphale looked like he didn’t believe it one bit but nodded anyway.

There was nothing Crowley wanted more right now than to get Aziraphale back to his place so he could tend to him. The need to let him know he was safe now, to tell him how strong he had been, how much courage something that like took, was overpowering all of his squeamishness about being open like that but there was still no way he wanted to do that somewhere anyone could just walk in. He really hoped that that would be the last of Gabriel, but he wasn't naive enough to believe it. When he had the mental capacity, he was going to figure out a way to make sure that all ties were cut loose for good.

It wasn’t quite hitting him yet that Aziraphale had chosen him over Gabriel. It was right on the edge of realization that Aziraphale had stood up, looked Gabriel in the face, and chosen Crowley. Crowley, in his mind’s periphery was somewhat conscious of this fact but the weight of what that meant for Aziraphale and for them as friends or anything else was too much to chew over so soon after the excitement.

It didn’t seem to have sunk in for Aziraphale either, who was trying his hardest not to look like his mental state was currently the calm before the storm.

Crowley stood and held out his uninjured hand.

“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So grateful for the responses from the last chapter! This one was a bit tough to get out and I apologize for the wait but your comments gave me fuel. I really hope this didn't disappoint.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you okay? Because that was a lot back there. It makes sense if you’re not okay.”
> 
> Aziraphale only met his eye for a moment before looking away.
> 
> “I… I don’t know yet.”

The door to Crowley’s flat had barely closed before Aziraphale had Crowley wrapped in a hug. Caught off guard, Crowley was still for a moment before hugging back, arms around Aziraphale’s waist, pulling him closer. He was warm and solid and _here_ and it was everything. Crowley felt that burst of pride all over again. Aziraphale was here because he wanted to be here enough to stand his ground. Crowley couldn’t imagine what had been going through Aziraphale’s head in that moment. 

Aziraphale’s body started to shake and Crowley rubbed a hand up and down his back, soothingly. It took a few seconds for him to realize that Aziraphale wasn’t crying. He was laughing.

Standing there, Crowley wasn’t sure what to do. This certainly wasn’t a reaction he had been expecting. The laughter started quiet but was gradually getting louder and was, quite honestly, contagious. Crowley tried to suppress it at first- even though he had an armful of someone cracking up, it hardly seemed appropriate to do the same given the circumstances- but before he could help it, he let out a laugh of his own.

Aziraphale pulled back. His eyes were a bit watery but Crowley couldn’t tell if it had been from laughing or crying.

“I don’t have to go back,” Aziraphale said.

“You don’t, no,” Crowley replied, still slightly bewildered by the change of emotions.

Aziraphale didn’t reply but Crowley could practically see the gears in his head working overtime. What they were working on, Crowley had no clue. Before Crowley could say something else, Aziraphale snapped out of it.

“Oh! Oh, dear boy, your hand! You needed ice.” 

And just like that, Aziraphale was away in the kitchen, rummaging through the freezer. 

Crowley was well aware of the pain that was shooting up from his hand but a few more minutes of it being left untreated was well worth more time getting to touch Aziraphale. Regardless, he sat himself down on the couch criss-cross and held his good hand out to take the ice pack. Aziraphale pointedly ignored it, sitting across from him and taking Crowley’s injured hand in his own. Crowley hissed at the cold touching his heated skin.

“I can’t believe you punched him,” Aziraphale said. He firmly pressed the ice pack down on the swollen knuckles.

“Whoops,” Crowley said. He wasn’t surprised at himself in the slightest.

“You had no idea whether or not he had the ability to win such a fight and you still punched him.”

“Well, lucky for me, he didn’t seem too interested in strategy,” Crowley said, actually appreciating that fact. “Also lucky that overall he was very punch-able.”

“I suppose he was, wasn’t he,” Aziraphale said, focusing intently on Crowley’s hand.

Crowley ducked his head, trying to catch Aziraphale’s eye.

“Are you okay? Because that was a lot back there. It makes sense if you’re not okay.”

Aziraphale only met his eye for a moment before looking away.

“I… I don’t know yet.”

Crowley tried to restrain himself from making a face as he mental hitting himself. Of course Aziraphale wasn’t okay. Everything was up in the air now. Even though life had been shit with Gabriel one reason that had trapped Aziraphale was the stability, as false as it had been. Gabriel was powerful, rich, connected, well put together. Crowley frowned.

“You don’t, uh… you don’t think he’s gonna press charges do you?” Crowley asked, as nonchalantly as he could.

Aziraphale thought it over, taking the ice pack off. Crowley was grateful for the change in temperature, even more grateful when Aziraphale gently pressed his own hand against the numbed area to warm it up a bit before more icing. 

“I’m not sure to be honest. I would be a witness and I think he’d rather make a story up about a gang of men taking him by surprise. No offense to you, my dear, but he hates bad publicity and if he thought you were going to come forward and say something... well. You’re a bit scrawny comparatively.” 

“Hey,” Crowley protested, not that he had much ground to do so. He chewed the inside of his cheek. It did sound like he had a good chance of getting off clean. “Well, I’ve got lots to say, regardless. What if I do that anyway?”

Aziraphale gave him a warning look.

“You’d need some very good lawyers and you’ll do no such thing.”

“What about you? Shouldn’t you get a restraining order or something? We can’t just… let him get away with that.” He couldn’t help but feel how good it was to use the word ‘we’ for the two of them. 

“Crowley, no,” Aziraphale said, sharply, causing any persuasive point Crowley was about to present to die out. “I can’t-” Aziraphale took a deep breath. “I can’t go through that process. The police and the court and telling people things that I don’t even know counts as- as-” 

Crowley squeezed the hand holding his, though it was admittedly difficult.

“Angel, it’s alright, you don’t have to do anything. I’m not gonna make you go through anything you don’t want to deal with.”

“You think I’m a coward, don’t you,” Aziraphale said, quietly, in a more defeated tone than sad.

“’Course not,” Crowley said. “Just the opposite, actually.”

Aziraphale, while not agreeing, looked at him gratefully and Crowley counted it as a win.

When night fell, Crowley found himself facing a sleeping Aziraphale in bed, wondering, like many times before, how exactly he managed to get to this point in life. The room was dark but Crowley could see Aziraphale’s outline, his steady breathing, his hand curled around the pillow. Crowley had yet to see the effects of insomnia that Aziraphale frequently complained about, always drifting right off from emotional exhaustion. Aziraphale made a small noise and Crowley half expected his eyes to open but instead he buried his face in the pillow before stilling once more. 

****

The two men decided it would better benefit Aziraphale to just stay in for the next few days, both to relax and plan the next step. Crowley figured, since he already had some days off work, it’d be good to stay with him and help however he could. Crowley managed to convince Aziraphale that it really was no inconvenience for him to stay and, if he wanted, Crowley could help him fix up the flat above his shop to something livable. He wanted to suggest that maybe Aziraphale could just move in with him but he felt that maybe that would be too fast. They weren’t even a couple yet. If there was even a yet to be had. It felt like there would be. Either way, it’d be important for Aziraphale to have his own space, somewhere that was his own, independent from anyone else.

Aziraphale spent a lot of time in bed, not necessarily sleeping. Sometimes Crowley would check up on him and he’d be reading, sometimes he’d just be laying there, looking out of the bedroom window. Crowley gave him space but also all of his attention whenever he ventured out.

It was an odd place to occupy in their relationship and Crowley wondered if Aziraphale felt it too. Crowley didn’t want to take advantage of Aziraphale’s vulnerability and take the first step in asking for him to be more than a friend but in a way it felt like they already _were_ more than friends. Crowley wanted to be able to freely hold and kiss him and call him more pet names but it felt so wrong to even think about starting that so soon after a breakup. They had woken up cuddling one more time and it had taken all of Crowley’s restraint to not just tilt his head up a little more and place kisses on Aziraphale’s neck.

This morning, Crowley woke up to Aziraphale sleeping on his chest. He didn’t have time to appreciate it, though, because it only took a second to process that the reason he woke up was insistent pounding on his front door. Aziraphale was waking up as well.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, squinting up at him as he tried to keep his eyes open. There was more banging on the door and Aziraphale’s eyes immediately widened, arms tightening around Crowley. “Do you think it’s Gabriel? Crowley, I can’t go with him, please,” Aziraphale said, panic quickly rising in his voice, like he thought Crowley would willingly give him away.

Crowley rubbed his arm, trying to calm him down as he tried to keep his own exterior calm.

“He can’t know where I live,” Crowley said with false confidence. “I’m gonna go check it out. You stay here.”

Aziraphale nodded, sitting up and reluctantly letting go of Crowley.

The pounding at the door stopped. It wasn’t until Crowley was right in front of it that it started again, making Crowley jump.

“Who’s out there?” Crowley yelled, squaring up.

“Crowley, will you open the goddamn door?” Anathema’s muffled voice came from behind.

Crowley dropped his stance, feeling the adrenaline bleed out of him. He opened the door.

“Fucking Christ, Anathema, were you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?” He froze, awkwardly, as she pulled him into a hug. “Er.”

She let go and punched him on the arm.

“What was that for?” Crowley asked, offended, and clutched the hurt arm dramatically.

“You asshole! You don’t show up to work, you don’t answer my calls. All the information I got was that you were taking a break from the office and last time I talked to you, you were all upset and brooding,” Anathema ranted.

Crowley took a step back for the sake of his other arm.

“I’ve been… busy,” Crowley said, lamely.

Anathema opened her mouth to say something but paused, looking around the flat.

“Wow, do you really live like this?”

“Wh-? Yes, I live like this. What’s wrong with it? How did you even find my address?” Crowley sputtered.

“I told Hastur I was worried about you so he gave me your address and said I should probably check in,” Anathema said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course he did.”

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called out. He shuffled into view, arms crossed protectively in front of himself. His hair was still adorably ruffled from sleep. “Oh, Anathema, dear! Thank goodness it was you,” he said, still looking obviously shaken.

Crowley could visibly see Anathema’s emotional journey on her face, going from confusion to dawning realization a little too quickly for Crowley’s liking.

“Crowley, what did you do?” Anathema asked, sounding more excited than cross. “I mean, I know what you _did_ but-”

“It’s not what you think,” Crowley interrupted, defensively. He was not about to let Anathema jump to her usual Crowley Can’t Keep It In His Pants conclusions. “Really, Device?”

“Crowley’s letting me stay with him for a bit,” Aziraphlae said, face flushing a bit. “I, um. I left Gabriel.”

“Oh,” Anathema said, softly. “Oh, honey.”

She hurried over, embracing him in a tight hug, arms around his neck.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. That must’ve been so difficult,” Anathema said, slightly rocking him back and forth.

“I’m guessing you know a bit about the situation,” Aziraphale said. He looked over her shoulder at Crowley.

Crowley grimaced and mouthed ‘sorry,’ relieved to be rewarded with a small, forgiving smile.

“You’ll tell me if you need anything, right?” Anathema asked, finally letting go of Aziraphale. “Literally, anything. Especially if you need a break from this guy.” She jerked her head towards Crowley.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Aziraphale said, earnestly.

Crowley felt like he could combust with the amount of emotion poured into his body from the one sentence. Even with her back turned to him, Anathema seemed to sense the shift in his mood. She looked over and gave him a knowing smile.

“Did you want tea? Coffee?” Aziraphale asked.

“No, I should be going. I’m sorry I woke you guys, I just had to make sure Crowley was alright.”

“Well, he’s very lucky to have a friend like you.”

It was true. There would have been great reason to believe that Crowley had taken the time off to hole himself up here to get wasted and, in that case, Anathema would have very well been coming to his rescue. Of course, Crowley couldn’t just agree outright, though. That’d be out of character. He hmphed instead, knowing that Anathema understood what he meant when she stuck her tongue out at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all having happy holidays! Thank you for the lovely responses to the last chapter, I'm absolutely living for your commentary.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t want to take advantage of him,” Crowley blurted out.
> 
> Anathema looked as surprised as Crowley was at the outburst.

Living with Aziraphale was… a lot of things. Different, new, enjoyable, sometimes downright torture. It had barely been over a month of them sharing the space and Crowley felt like a sodding teenager- or at least like he was back in his university days- having to sneak a wank in the shower whenever he could. Having the object of every fantasy he’s had in the past year sleeping in his bed every night had, not surprisingly, made things worse in the sexual frustration department, except now he felt more guilty about it.

There were times where, throughout the course of the night, the two would slowly gravitate toward each other until they were side by side on the couch, so close as they talked, and there’d be a lull in the conversation and everything in Crowley’s mind would turn into a mantra of ‘what if’s. What if I leaned forward just a bit? What if I kissed him? What if he kissed me? What if that led to more? What if I got to see what was under all those clothes? What if he let me touch him wherever I liked? _What if, what if, what if_.

What if it’s too soon?

And then Crowley would come back to his senses. It was driving him crazy. 

He couldn’t help that he had a high sex drive and that he was tightly wound from having the longest dry spell he could ever recall having, self-imposed as it was, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like the world’s biggest prick every time he was left trying to catch his breath after coming to thoughts of his best friend as the evidence washed down the drain. Not being touched for so long made so many innocent touches feel like much more and each one put him more on edge. It was not any better knowing that, in some form or another, there was a mutual attraction. Crowley just couldn’t be the one to make the first move.

Of course, sex wasn’t the only thing on his mind. He was worried about Aziraphale’s well-being. Crowley had to go back to work and Aziraphale was going back to the bookshop, albeit less frequently than even the odd sign on his shop door pronounced. Their respective jobs weren’t making the strain of the situation any easier. Crowley had begun fielding odd phone calls about some of his past academic papers and Aziraphale was receiving letters from a neighborhood committee about marketable placement of storefronts that he couldn’t quite parse.

Gabriel had not yet popped up again but that didn’t mean either of them felt like they were completely in the clear. The anxiety ebbed and flowed depending on the day. Even though Crowley had tried, Aziraphale had refused to open up anymore about Gabriel. He’d refused suggestions of therapy and the word ‘abuse’ was not yet in his related vocabulary.

Aziraphale had good days where everything was normal and smiles were easy. He also had days where there was a strain and precision to every thing said and every expression made, like Aziraphale was trying his best to make it look like a good day. There were also depressive days which involved very few words and a lot of avoidance. 

And then there were the nightmares. The first time it happened, Crowley woke and had laid there wondering what could’ve woken him up in the first place. The room was still dark but there were slits of dull, blue light peeking through the blinds. He was about to chalk it up to probably having to go to the bathroom when he heard Aziraphale’s breath hitch, which turned into a whimper. Aziraphale jolted in his sleep, breath picking up pace in a worrying manner that had Crowley sitting up and tentatively placing a hand on his back.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered. He shook him slightly and Aziraphale curled up into himself. “Aziraphale, wake up.”

Crowley cleared his throat.

“Aziraphale, wake up,” he repeated, louder this time.

Aziraphale sat up fast with a gasp, startling Crowley.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in,” Aziraphale rushed out, eyes wide with fear as he pushed himself back to the edge of the bed. In the dim light, Crowley could see tear tracks down his cheeks.

“You’re alright. You were having a bad dream,” Crowley said, stomach twisting a bit over that being Aziraphale’s reaction. 

Aziraphale seemed to absorb his surroundings and self-consciously touched his cheek where it was wet. 

“I woke you up,” he said, distressed.

“That’s alright. Technically, I woke you up too.” Crowley’s brain was furiously trying to wake up enough to properly comfort. “Are you okay? Can I do anything?”

Aziraphale shook his head but when he reached up to wipe away the remnants of his tears, Crowley could see his hands shaking. He reached out and took them in his own, squeezing gently.

“You can come over here,” Crowley said, gesturing his head. 

“I’m really fine,” Aziraphale said, taking away his hands. He looked like he was embarrassed by the entire situation.

“I can make you some tea if that’ll help the nerves,” Crowley tried.

“It’s alright, dear boy. Please go back to sleep.”

Crowley hesitated but Aziraphale was looking at him resolutely so he laid back down, this time closer to the middle as an invitation. Eyes closed, he could hear Aziraphale rustling the sheets and suppressed a smile when he felt Aziraphale’s hand tentatively land on his arm, grip getting firmer as he scooted closer.

After that incident, nightmares became a regular occurrence, happening every few days. It woke Crowley up most of the time but he only had to wake Aziraphale up in return on half of the occasions, often able to soothe him into what Crowley hoped to be a more peaceful sleep by pulling him close. He refused every offer Aziraphale made to sleep on the couch.

There were other adjustments, as well. Aziraphale had to get a new phone. His clothes got designated spots in both the bedroom closet and the dresser. Books began to pop up in odd places all over the flat- briefly disappearing after Crowley commented on them and reappearing when Crowley insisted that he liked the appearance of the place much better with books. Crowley also had to be more considerate about the treatment of his beloved plants, making sure only to yell at them when Aziraphale was out.

It had taken only a week after Crowley’s return to work when he came home early to not find Aziraphale in the usual places. He was about to figure that he had popped out for something when he heard his voice coming from his green room. When he looked into the room, he found Aziraphale fawning over one of the smaller potted plants and Crowley took in the sight of the light filtering through just right to bask both the plants and Aziraphale in warm gold.

Aziraphale ended up giving him compliments with such unabashed fondness on his face it had left Crowley blushing and sputtering.

******

It had been a rough couple days for Crowley. Work stress had him feeling like an exposed nerve and Anathema was constantly asking about Aziraphale updates, despite there never really being any. The biggest update he could give was that Aziraphale had started hesitantly broaching the topic of his bookshop flat that they hadn’t begun to work on yet. Crowley, of course, wanted to make Aziraphale happy but thought it was so soon to have him leave. While he was there, Crowley could pretend that they were an item. It was depressing. He was moody and he had a headache that was very persistent despite popping over-the-counter pain killers throughout the day.

He slammed the door to his office in frustration after a very confusing meeting with his boss- something he immediately regretted when it felt like the sound ricocheted through his skull. He slumped into his chair. The door opened and he groaned, already knowing who it was.

“I hear you’re terrorizing the visiting undergrads,” Anathema said, making herself at home.

Crowley rubbed his temples. “Unless you’re here offering to stay late tonight and take over my paperwork, I’d appreciate you showing yourself out.”

Anathema was unfazed by the lack of civility.

“I would but I’ve got a date,” she said, rather proudly.

Crowley closed his eyes, switching to rub at them instead. “That’s one of us. Who is it? Front desk guy?”

Anathema wrinkled her nose. “No. I’m going out with Newt.”

Crowley moved his hands away to look at her, bewildered.

“Newt?”

She nodded.

“As in Newton?”

She nodded again.

“As in scrawny guy with the glasses Newton?”

Anathema rolled her eyes. “Yes. And he’s not… _that_ scrawny.”

“Why the heaven are you going out with Newton?”

“We’ve been seeing each other,” Anathema said, casually. “He’s really nice. He’s been trying to get me to focus less on work when I’m not working.”

Crowley snorted. “He’s in for a trip there. You don’t get a spot like yours at your age by not thinking about work when you’re not working.”

“Well, it’s sweet that he’s trying. And I’ve found it’s kinda nice to actually do stuff on the weekends.”

Crowley hmphed, too annoyed with the day to deny himself the jealousy that Newt has made more progress with Anathema in such a short time when Crowley was not sure at all what to do about Aziraphale.

Anathema seemed to be able to tell. “I’m guessing no new Aziraphale updates?” She asked sympathetically.

“I don’t want to take advantage of him,” Crowley blurted out.

Anathema looked as surprised as Crowley was at the outburst. Now that he said something, Crowley’s mouth decided it had a will of its own.

“I don’t want to push him into something he’s not ready for just because I’ve been wallowing in self pity for the last year going by a look but don’t touch rule. And I’ve broken that rule multiple times and he has too but what? Am I going to assume that just because he’s shown interest in the past he’s going to be okay with me being forward now? And he’s living in my flat! Tell me there’s not a power imbalance there! Sometimes it looks like he’s going to make a move but then he doesn’t and I want to so bad but if he’s not making a move then what if he’s not ready and if he’s not ready and I make a move then what if anything he does is just because he feels pressured and thinks that if he rejects me I’ll throw him out.” Crowley finished his rant, stopping to take a breath. “And one of my plants died,” he added, just because he could.

He was met with shocked silence.

“You have plants?” Anathema finally asked, overwhelmed.

“No prying.”

Anathema looked a bit put out that she wouldn’t be getting an answer.

“Have you tried talking to Aziraphale about any of that?” Anathema asked, focusing on the actual problem.

Crowley looked at her like she was insane. “What would I say? Hey, sorry about your dickhead ex-boyfriend and the end of your long-term relationship. Wanna shag?”

“Will you quit it,” Anathema said, an edge to her voice that pulled Crowley out of his own thoughts. “We’ve passed the point of you just wanting to get laid ages ago, can you quit beating yourself up about it? You care about him. Let him know that.”

Crowley crossed his arms. Anathema was making too much sense and Crowley was not in the mood to be practical. It had been a good while since he really focused on his own selfish problems and he wanted to wallow in it a bit longer.

“He _knows_ that I care about him.”

“Then maybe he does need a little push. Maybe he’s waiting on you to show him that it’s okay for him to move on.”

Crowley sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Fine. Let’s say I ask him out and he says yes. How do I know that he isn’t only latching onto me because I got him away from Gabriel and I was just the first person to show interest and he’s just scared of being single? Like that one thing. With the nurses.”

“He’s a big boy, Crowley,” Anathema said, condescendingly. “I think he can make his own decisions. You need to trust him.”

Crowley groaned and slumped further in his chair. Anathema looked rather pleased with herself.

“I should start an advice column,” she said. “Also, I hope you know you’ll be hearing all about my relationship problems with Newt when they come up. And I mean, like, in-depth.”

“I think you magnified my migraine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Anathema stood and stretched. “I’ll leave you to your dramatics.”

Crowley watched as she left, thankful when the door finally closed behind her.

“I’m not dramatic,” Crowley mumbled to himself.

After thinking over the conversation for a few minutes, Crowley straightened up. He was going to go home and ask Aziraphale out. That was tonight’s plan. Maybe. Depending on the mood. And whether or not he psyched himself out. This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! My immune system took a couple hits this past month and it feels nice to be back to writing. Hopefully the update was worth the wait, I appreciate your feedback so so much. Stay healthy and get the flu shot if you haven't yet!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m trying to ask if you want to be my boyfriend,” Crowley said quickly before he lost his nerve. “Shit that sounds a bit juvenile, doesn’t it?”

Opening the door to his flat, Crowley was hit with the smell of something delicious wafting through. He set his keys down and followed the noise of clattering and humming coming from the kitchen. A classical piece was playing, the sound a bit grainy from the record player Aziraphale had brought back from his shop. The nerves he had felt from deciding to put his plan into action dissipated with how overwhelmingly warm and welcoming his place felt as if whatever mood Aziraphale was in had permeated throughout.

“Aziraphale, I’m home,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale startled, the butter knife he had been holding clattering to the ground. A grin lit up his face.

“Oh! Crowley, I thought you were working late tonight. What a pleasant surprise.” He grabbed the knife off the floor and set it in the sink. “If I had known, I would have started on dinner a little sooner.”

“What’s all this?” Crowley asked, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

“A grand ‘thank you’ dinner,” Aziraphale said, proudly. “I had been thinking about it and I’ve realized I haven’t done much to show how appreciative I am for your hospitality. I hope you don’t mind I’ve taken advantage of your kitchen for the night?”

“’Course not, though a thank you isn’t very necessary,” Crowley said, hopping up to sit on the counter.

“It is and it’s well overdue. No further arguments allowed.”

Crowley held up his hands, conceding.

“What’s on the menu?” From the looks of the kitchen, something Italian. “Did you need any help?”

“I made lasagna. I just took it out of the oven so it needs some time to cool. I do hope it’s turned out alright, it’s been quite a while since I’ve cooked anything with that many carbs. I also picked up a baguette from the boulangerie a block down. Lovely people.” He started to hand over the long, paper-wrapped bread, swiftly holding it out of reach when Crowley made grabby hands. “It is not to be eaten until we’ve sat down for the meal. You are in charge of cutting it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Crowley said, accepting the bread as Aziraphale slowly gave it to him with stern eyes. While he still wasn’t one for savoring food, Crowley would admit French bread was a weakness. He bet he could get away with sneaking a bite in when Aziraphale turned away. “How was the shop?”

“Got a group of tourists poking around. I’m starting to fear I’ve ended up recommended on a website. Not too much of a change in foot traffic but enough to be suspicious; especially with all the younger crowds. Thankfully, they all seem more of the academic type so I don’t have to worry much about books being roughly handled. I also brought back one of the finer wines. Figured if I was already going to make a night out of it.” 

Crowley watched his mouth as he talked and the nervousness creeped back in. The mood would be perfect to ask Aziraphale out. 

“What do you think about settin’ up in the lounge. Not quite the bookshop but for old time’s sake,” Crowley said as casually as he could. The less formal the setting felt the easier it would be. 

“A splendid idea, dear.” 

He couldn’t be reading the signs wrong. Unless he was and he ended up ruining a night Aziraphale obviously had worked hard on. He focused on cutting the bread evenly while Aziraphale got out wine glasses. The question would have to wait until after dinner at least. 

“Did you know Anathema and Newton are a thing?” Crowley asked.

“Hm?”

“Newton and Anathema. Dating.”

“Of course I did. Newton was so nervous the first time he took her out he was asking anyone he could for advice. Don’t they make a handsome couple? I told you they’d get along swimmingly.”

“Really don’t know how you were right about that one.”

“It was brilliant intuition,” Aziraphale said smugly.

“It was sheer luck,” Crowley grumbled, turning to pout at him.

Aziraphale tsked, amused. “What do you have against the poor boy?”

Not very willing to admit he was holding a grudge against the cluelessness that poured off Newt, he opted for a noncommittal shrug. He picked up a slice of baguette. “He’s a bit plain for her, is all.”

“And here I thought you liked plain things,” Aziraphale said, his playful tone not matching the way he adjusted his bowtie self-consciously.

Crowley tilted his head, taking a moment before his brain processed what Aziraphale meant.

“Angel, I swear if you’re referring to yourself,” Crowley started.

Aziraphale laughed like what he said hadn’t been self-deprecating in the slightest. “Oh, hush, you know what I mean.”

“I most certainly do not and I refuse to tolerate any bad mouthing on your behalf.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to protest.

“Nuh-uh. You’re not allowed to say anything remotely negative about my favorite person. You’ll hurt my feelings.” Crowley broke off a piece of bread and popped it into his mouth with finality.

“Favorite person?” Aziraphale asked, softly with what definitely looked like a slight blush. Before Crowley had a chance to act on the impulse to ask him out on the spot, his eyes went between Crowley and the bread slice. “Anthony J. Crowley, you fiend, I told you no bread yet.”

Moment passed. “You honestly couldn’t have expected me to wait.”

“It’s ready to be served right now! Would it have been so terrible to wait one more minute.”

Crowley tore off another piece. “If we’re going to be eating right now then no harm done.” He offered the piece to Aziraphale, holding it in front of his mouth. 

Aziraphale gave him a glare with no heat behind it and, to Crowley’s surprise, opened his mouth allowing him to feed him, lips barely brushing against his fingertips. 

Crowley was rooted to the spot from the small touch as Aziraphale went to get their food. This man would be the death of him.

With dinner served and glasses full, Crowley let himself soak in the undivided attention from Aziraphale. He enjoyed how pleased the other man got when Crowley complimented the cooking and encouraged Aziraphale’s ramblings, trying to pay as much attention as he could with the anxiousness creeping in more and more as it got later. It was a bit of a worrying thought, not getting to have moments like this anymore. He was being dramatic. Even if Aziraphale did formally reject him, they’d still have meals together. Crowley would probably sleep on the couch, though. Even worse, they’d still share a bed because Aziraphale would feel guilty and there’d be horrible tension every night until Aziraphale decided the best course of action would be to move out as soon as possible and Crowley would go back to having no one to come home to and no one to clutter up his minimalist apartment in a way that made it look like it was lived in and loved. Aziraphale would move out at some point, whether or not he rejected Crowley but it’d feel so soon.

Crowley was lounging with his back against his couch, still nursing the remains of his first glass of wine by the time their plates were almost empty and realized that Aziraphale hadn’t refilled his own at any point. He also realized that he had gotten a little too lost in thought and that Aziraphale had gone quiet at some point and was starting to fidget. Crowley drank the last bit of his wine and grabbed the bottle. 

“Would you like me to pour?” He asked, nodding at Aziraphale’s glass.

“Have I done something wrong?” Aziraphale’s voice came out small and uncertain, a nervous smile replacing the cheery one from not even ten minutes before. Crowley tried to contain his grimace, realizing his thoughts must have been showing unfiltered on his face. 

“No! No, I was just… thinking,” Crowley settled on, which didn’t seem to placate Aziraphale very much.

“Anything you wish to share?”

Did he? Now was just as good of a time as ever though in his head he imagined this going way smoother, without accidentally making Aziraphale nervous. The dim lighting was making everything feel a bit stifling.

“I, er- maybe? Fuck, I’m already fucking this up.” Crowley nervously ran a hand through his hair and Aziraphale looked like he didn’t know whether to be amused or worried, covering Crowley’s closest hand with his own.

“Fucking what up, dear?” 

The explicative coming out of Aziraphale’s mouth was out of place enough to snap out of the anxiety-induced spiral he seemed to be having. “Angel,” he said, scandalized, with a huff of laughter.

Aziraphale looked a bit sheepish. “It hardly counts as cursing if I’m simply repeating what you said. Now what ever is the matter?”

“I’m trying to ask if you want to be my boyfriend,” Crowley said quickly before he lost his nerve. “Shit that sounds a bit juvenile, doesn’t it?”

Aziraphale was struck speechless, like Crowley had started speaking in another language. He had to have been expecting it with the months and months of dancing around each other. Every other night they’d end up sharing each other’s warmth and Crowley’s never hid how he felt from the other. Aziraphale had always been the one to draw the line and now he was looking at Crowley like what he said made no sense and doubt was quickly spreading through his mind. 

“Do you want to go out with me?” He tried again, voice sounding more vulnerable than he’d like.

“You still want me?” Aziraphale asked, the disbelief plain. 

Crowley tried not to get squeamish with how fragile the entire moment felt and looked Aziraphale in the eyes, more emboldened. His heart felt like it was trying to beat right out of his chest.

“More than anything.”

Before he knew it, Aziraphale was in his lap, embracing him tightly and he was quick to put his arms around the other as well. 

“Is this a yes?” Crowley laughed, relieved.

“Of course it’s a yes, you silly man.” Aziraphale sat back, entwining their hands. His eyes looked suspiciously wet but Crowley wasn’t about to comment on it “I was so worried you were losing interest. I thought I’d missed my chance.”

“I was worried I’d be overstepping,” Crowley admitted.

“We’re a couple of fools.”

“Complete idiots,” he agreed. Crowley looked down at their hands. It was odd. It had been such a big step to take and he had almost expected it to be like in the films with grand, swelling music and a big dramatic scene but instead it felt more like something that had been off was slotting into place. It felt so, so right. He lifted Aziraphale’s hand and placed a kiss on the top of it. 

Aziraphale watched the action fondly. “I’d really like to kiss you, if you wouldn’t mind,” he said.

“I’d mind quite greatly if you didn’t.” 

Aziraphale gently cupped Crowley’s face, thumb brushing across his lips. Crowley leaned into it, eyes not sure where to focus as Aziraphale leaned in before they closed as their mouths connected, soft and warm. Aziraphale pulled back just enough to repeat the action again and once more before Crowley felt the swipe of tongue at the same time the hand on his face traveled further back to gently run fingers through his hair and he felt _ sparks _. A thrill as he parted his mouth to let Aziraphale lead. Aziraphale made a content noise and deepened the kiss. It was nothing like the frenzied desperation Crowley imagined their first kiss would be like but it was slow and perfect. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist to pull him closer. Aziraphale's tongue shallowly dipped into his mouth over and over and Crowley followed the flow of it. He tasted like wine and it was hard not to think about how lovely it would be to get to kiss him after he's had his favorite pastries.

It must’ve been just a couple minutes but it felt like a lifetime before they parted. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Aziraphale said, flushed and looking at Crowley like he had hung the moon.

“Ngh.. yeah, uh,” Crowley cleared his throat, head spinning. He felt like he was a teenager again, lovesick and struck dumb after his first kiss with a boy. “You have my full permission to do that whenever you’d like.”

Aziraphale leaned forward, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Whenever?” He asked, a breath away.

“Mm,” Crowley said affirmatively, already closing the space between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know how many people will still be interested in this but for those still out there, I hope you're doing well and enjoy the long-awaited new chapter! Thank you for the many nice comments on the last one, both about the fic and towards my well-being. Things are iffy but I'm still creating and I don't think I would've been able to muster up enough energy without the encouragement. 
> 
> A question that will surely be answered soon: Is Gabriel really over it?


End file.
